The Grimm Brothers Beilschmidt and Company
by DarkmoonSigel
Summary: First published on Deviant Art My novel length Hetalia AU of fairy tales and mayhem. Tons of different pairings. UsUk, PruCan, Gerita, Spamano, Rose Glasses, Geripan, DenNor, SuFin Mostly comedy, some smut in the later chapters If you like Disney fairy tales and twisted takes on them, then you should like this. Rated M for a reason.
1. Chapter 1

FOR THE LOVE OF PASTA, READ THE DAMN WARNING!  
IT IS THERE FOR A REASON…..

Warning: Some of these stories(not all) in the coming chapters will contain Yaoi, some of which may be hardcore. Yaoi is boy x boy love, man meat on man meat, all wieners-no buns. If you are not into that, do not read or complain. You have been fairly warned.

This story and Axis Powers Hetalia depicts people and persons as the direct personification of that nation/country, so if this concept bothers you, this might not be the right story for you, especially if you are unable to mentally grasp that these nations are centuries years old despite their outward appearance.

All people, persons, nations, and whatever represented in these stories are of legal age. No minors of any kind are depicted in these stories by the author, personal perception(s) of the reader(s) aside.

It boils down to this-  
IF YOU DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. IT'S THAT FREAKING SIMPLE!

"FACEPALM"…FOR THE LOVE OF DOITSU AND BEER…..

I have nothing against any characters/states/nations of Hetalia. I understand that everyone has their favorite characters/pairing. I know I do. If you don't like how a character(s) is portrayed, please don't be a hater about it. If you think the writing is shit(I don't know what you expect-it already states I'm a hack on my profile), then write your own damn story about the nations. It is a lot easier to critic that create. Please keep that in mind. And once again-

IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ! NOT A HARD CONCEPT!  
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The Grimm Brothers Beilschmidt1  
…..and company.

Somewhere deep among the emerald forests within the haunted hearts of the British Isles, four men walked down a dirt road marked by deep grooves from many a passing wagon. They walked in pairs mostly because half of the quartet could not stand the other's company at the moment.

One half of the forefront couple was composed of an albino, all snowy white skin and silver sparkling hair. He was dressed in a blue(dare I even say Prussian blue…) frock with a billowing cape and black tricorn hat set on his head at a jaunty angle. It was marked by a small yellow bird that flew circles round his head like a demented halo making him look somewhat crazed. The near permanent canine marked smirk didn't help matters in this perception either.

His companion and conversation combatant was a tall lanky blonde with a peculiar strand of hair that seemly defied gravity. His sky blue eyes were partially hidden behind a pair of silver spectacles, giving him a much wiser appearance than he actually deserved. He had a constant wide pearly grin, and talked almost as much as his neighbor on the road. The blonde wore a military style royal blue jacket with crimson lapels. He claimed it made him look heroic.

The albino and the hero were currently arguing who was the more awesome between them.

The disgruntled pair trailing behind them were two blondes. The taller of the two was build strong and wide, his defined muscles barely contained in his neat green jacket, practical heavy black clothing worn underneath. His Aryan visage was marked by platinum blonde hair neatly gelled back, and hard ice blue eyes. He was currently wearing a frown.

The last member of this intrepid party was obviously the awesome blondes twin though he was separated from him with many subtle differences, silence being the most obvious of them. He carried a small polar bear cub who had the unique curse upon him of no one being able to remember his name correctly =. He had been a recent acquirement from one of the group's…cases. The bespectacled blonde had amethyst eyes instead of blue and a long floating curl on his forehead, his silkier hair shoulder length. He wore a comfortable looking tan trench coat as well as a frown.

"You know what would have been 'awesome'? If you two Blvdes Arschloch  
hadn't lost the horses gambling!", Ludwig yelled, finally fed up with the whole inane topic of conversation.

"West, don't get your lace panties in a twist. Aren't you the one always saying we should train more?", Gilbert shrugged, the older of the two not sweating the small details.

"Yeah and I'm sure these guys were cheating?", Alfred piped up to add his two cents, striking a heroic pose while he was at it for no reason at all really. His twin sighed, dragging a tired hand down his face. It was hard to believe he was actually related to this delusional idiot sometimes.

"Of course, they were cheating! They were hustlers. That's what they do! You guys never stood a chance!", Matthew lamented, squeezing his polar bear close.

"Who are you?", Kumajirou asked, who was a touch vindictive about his curse. He was ignored by the blonde who was a bit touchy about that issue himself. His obnoxious sibling's antics tended to make others overlook him, sometimes to the point of invisibility.

"Then you should have let us bring them into the proper authorities.", Alfred retorted, feeling particularly full of justice at the moment.

"Ja, ja. What a wonderful idea. We could have if you idiots hadn't gotten us thrown out of the bar and banned from the town!", Ludwig yelled, waves of purple coming from his being.

"Screw them for not appreciating my awesomeness.", Gilbert smirked, waving the statement off to leave his brother face palming, swearing in rapid German.

"You really should stop doing that. It's going to leave a mark West.", Gilbert observed casually poking at his younger sibling's reddening forehead.

"Ludwig is right! It doesn't look good for us to be walking into towns. It doesn't exactly inspire confidence.", Matthew sighed, "especially carrying so much gear."

"Why not?! It just makes us, me in particular, more awesome!", Alfred countered, shifting his bulky towering pack to flex his muscles.

"But hardly professional.", Ludwig sighed, wondering how he drew this lot in life. He had always tried to be a good person and felt he truly didn't deserve this.

The intrepid four were hunters of a special sort for they were…

THE GRIMM BROTHERS BEILSCHMIDT!

….. And company.

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Originally started up by Ludwig and his older brother Gilbert, the Germans(well one German and one self proclaimed Prussian) had been joined later on by the North America twins, Alfred F. Jones and Matthew Williams, to hunt the weird, the unusual, and sometimes the absolutely absurd. Their mission was to right wrongs, save damsels in distress, and make a profit while doing it all.

Ludwig was the leader despite constant debating from a select few(Alfred and Gilbert in turns). Matthew was their chronicler slash healer. While everyone could fight and defend themselves, both Alfred and Gilbert were the strike fighters of the team pairing brute force with vicious speed and killer instincts.

In addition, each had their own particular gifts. The twins had abnormal strength hence the extraordinary amounts in their enormous packs on their backs, seemingly unhindered by their cumbersome burdens.

Ludwig had a perfect photographic memory, filling it with instructional manuals of any and all types. Matthew had his invisibility and Alfred his ability to find food anywhere. Gilbert claimed being awesome was his, but it actually was the unique if not basically useless talent of understanding and communicating with cute animals, mostly of the baby chick kind.

The North American twins had met the German brothers in a bar(naturally). Alfred F. Jones(no one knew what the 'F' stood for, Alfred included having only added it to sound more heroic. He changed it to something different every time someone asked-That's right ladies. The F stands for fearless) was American while Matthew Williams was Canadian(and proud aboot it) due to a split family. They could not stand being apart so they had run away together all the way to Europe in search of their fortune. There in a small rural town in bumfuck nowhere Austria, they had run into a dragon who had intended on making a snack bar out of said town. It was being repelled(and just barely) by the brothers Beilschmidt. The twins easily punted the dragon around a bit for fun to send it whimpering home with its scaly tail tucked firmly between its legs. They had been recruited immediately by the Germans. Ludwig had an eye for talent. Gilbert just had an eye on the Canadian(especially for his vital regions which the Prussian swore solemnly he would claim as his own).

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"Mein Gott! Quit your bitching! We got fresh air, a beautiful day, a creepy sign post with cryptic wording…Jeez, what more do you want?", Gilbert snapped, studying said sign post in front of him intently. It leaned to the side with extreme foreboding telling all to "Take heed and go no further. Something wicked this way lies."

"Huh….No shit….yup, that is one hell of a creepy sign.", Alfred mused, poking it. The sign gave up the ghost dying a termite riddled death. Alfred guiltily kicked some dirt over it. Ludwig and Matthew were too involved at the moment though to reprimand, their noses pressed deep in some handy books.

"My research says there is a sort of anomaly in this area that might be worth checking out. It is just a vague reference to a castle covered in your atypical vine spell…..", Matthew told them, half lost in thought.

"Fucking hell, I hate those damn things. Moving sentient or docile?", Gilbert groaned. It taken him weeks to get all the thorns out of his cape, not to mention all the sharp pointy bits. In his opinion, shrubbery shouldn't move.

"Hmmmm, doesn't say…..There is also an ancient legend that goes with it.", Matthew finished, flipping through his references.

"There always is. Sounds great! Let's go!", Alfred said excitedly only to be jerked back at his collar by his twin.

"I'm not done yet hoser.", Matthew said patiently, used to his brother's impulsiveness, "Once upon a time…"

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"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess?"

"What's with the question mark Mattie?"

"It gets a little vague around this part. No one seems to be sure about the gender it seems."

"Ok, so whatever. Some royal dude."

"Oh Maple…..some…."

"Say it."

'sigh' "Royal dude. Happy?"

"Quite. Continue.", Alfred grinned.

"Ahem, was born to a king and queen, and the whole kingdom rejoiced. In celebration, a grand party was thrown and all the fairies of the land were invited…."

"I call bullshit."

"…"

Alfred grinned back in answer.

"Aboot what?"

"Duh, on the fairies."

"What the hell?! What do you mean you call bullshit!?"

"Dude, fairies aren't real, hence I call total bullshit."

"….Al…."

"What?"

"You do realize that's what our jobs is, right? We fight fairy tales. Emphasis on the word 'fairy' here."

"And half the time it is just some old guy in a rubber mask pulling a B and E to look for gold or something like that. They are usually high as hell mumbling about meddlesome kids. Anyway I'm hungry. Can you wrap this up?"

"For the love of Maple…..so the king and queen invited….all of their citizens of the magical persuasion. Happy?"

"Better."

"Fur die Liebe der ficken! Halt deine Fresse! Quit interrupting!", Gilbert yelled, smacking Alfred upside his head, hurting his own hand in the process. The American's thick skull barely registered it.

"I don't speak gibberish.", Alfred politely reminded him.

"You Dummbatz! Das ist mir furzegal! Learn something other than tard!", Gilbert spat back at him.

"Rude cervelle d'oiseau. Both of you behave. Where was I?…Oh yeah…At the party, the …whatevers placed blessings on the royal dude giving him, her…it beauty, grace, wealth, and health. Pretty much your standard package really. Unfortunately for the king and queen, someone had forgotten to invite the powerful….."

"Now what?", Ludwig said irritably. They were wasting daylight, the four even going so far as to sit down in the middle of the road around a fire roasted marshmallows Alfred had somehow pulled out of nowhere.

"Well once again no one is sure. A witch maybe? Or a bad fairy(Al, shut the hell up!). A sorceress?"

"So the villain or evil dude.", Alfred provided answer.

'sigh' "Yes the evil dude crashed the party and cursed the child."

"Not awesome. Sound like a total schwanz.", Gilbert yawned followed by sneezing in boredom. He attempted to feed some gooey mallow to Gilbird who pecked him for his efforts.

"I really think that is besides the point.", Matthew mused, successfully feeding a perfectly toasted mallow to Kumajirou.

"Can we continue?", Ludwig managed out in pained tones, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"So the curse is an abnormal object death curse fairly standard with a jilted guest of the magical persuasion. Details provided claims it was a spindle needle of a spinning wheel. Go figure on that one. One prick and the person dies…..Al….What is wrong with you now?", Matthew sighed, trying to ignore his brother's obvious confusion.

"What's a spindle?"

The sound of multiple face palms was heard of the German and Canadian sort.

"Ok, so long story short, something happened, Scheiße got real.", Gilbert groaned, glaring at the oblivious American.

"Oui. The good fairies though had one gift left to give so they changed the curse to one of death to one of deep sleep instead, and…eyebrows? That can't be right.", Matthew sighed, flipping through his notes again, "Apparently the royal dude's hobby was embroidery…"

"Sheeeee-it, those people seriously didn't have enough sense to pour piss outta a boot before puttin it on. You'd think someone would nip that in the butt and just avoid the whole damn mess. How hard is it to avoid a damn needle?" Alfred drawled, making a proper sticky mess out of himself by making little sandwiches from the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers. Gilbert kept stealing them from him.

"Obviously but there you go and here we are.", Matthew shrugged, helping himself to one of Alfred's sticky sandwiches as well.

"And this is why I can't have nice things.", Alfred lamented his lack of s'more goodness, "So what now? Can the curse be broken?"

"Oui, but only by true love's kiss."

"Oh…really?"

"Yup."

"Well that's just stupid."

"How so?", Matthew asked, somehow managing to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Some ancient dude is napping for a couple of hundred years. Who the hell is going to jump that? The morning breath alone would be lethal.", Alfred explained.

"Fuck it! I say we go!", Gilbert stated firmly, nodding.

"And why is that bruder?", Ludwig sighed, not expecting a whole lot really from his kin.

"Uh duh West. There is an entire castle of rich stuff just laying around here. Let's go raid that mofo!", Gilbert snorted.

"That's an awesome idea!", Alfred agreed, s'more theft forgiven in light of treasure.

"Well it was my idea.", Gilbert said proudly, patting himself on the back for his genius, the depths of which even amazed him sometime.

"We are not going to steal anything. We will just go there, make a detailed report on our findings and leave the castle as we found it. The people inside are asleep not dead. Understand?", Ludwig glared, witling the awesome due.

"Ja."

"Fine."

"Killjoy."

"Seriously."


	2. Chapter 2

The castle and its surrounding lands were engulfed fully in a Type 2 vine spell the preferred choice of any serious hunter. Uppity foliage was not to be tolerated well at any given time. The thorn mass of snarled vines were made short work by Alfred and Matthew who were armed with a pair of sharp swords each, making themselves into an epic weed whacker. The shrubbery never knew what hit it.

Upon entering the castle grounds, they found all of its occupants asleep in the normal stages of various daily occurrences, covered in a glittering dust.

"It seems to be a level 6 sleep spell. It even affected the animals.", Matthew observed, poking at some dozing mice. Ludwig grunted general agreement, carefully taking down notes. Gilbert and Alfred entertained themselves with their own experiments.

"Quit hitting yourself! Quit hitting yourself! Quit hitting yourself!", Gilbert chanted, smacking a guard in the face with his own hand while Alfred drew penises and such on other's. They were promptly smacked down when their crimes against humanity were discovered.

"Science made me do it!", Gilbert cried overdramatically.

"Oh Maple, shut the hell up, cervelle d'oiseau.", Matthew said sourly, cutting off any further theatrics as he surveyed the damages. Al's penises had gotten far too accurate and detailed for his liking. He knew the Prussian was a bad influence.

"I love it when you flirt with me, Birdie.", Gilbert leered to be met with a disgusted eye roll from both blondes though for different reasons.

"Quit eye fucking my bro. It's hella creepy considering he looks like me.", Alfred growled protectively, "So where is this royal dude anyway?"

Matthew decided to let the earlier comment slide, giving his twin an odd look instead. "What do you care?"

"I want to see the dude too stupid to avoid a needle at least. It's like going to France and not seeing Paris, and it's a hero's duty to see if they can help in anyway even if it is just some light dusting.", Alfred grinned to be met with a dry look.

"Says the guy who wanted to come rob the place blind.", Matthew said flatly, raising an eyebrow at his sibling.

"Hey, we are already doing a B and E. Don't hate the playa.", Alfred shrugged.

"Just shut up. That's not how that saying goes and you are starting to make my little inside parts hurt. For the love of Maple, in the highest room in the tallest tower like always of course.", Matthew sighed wearily. The noise was matched by his twin.

"What the hell is up with that anyway? I hate stairs! Why do they always have to put in so many damn stairs? Aren't those things expensive to build?", Alfred lamented.

"It keeps fatasses away.", Gilbert smirked, knowing that the American was very touchy about his weight.

"I don't have a fat ass.", Alfred pouted, moving toward the stairs with new resolve if not to just prove a point.

"Stay out of trouble!", Matthew warned, eyeing the Prussian who started to creep up beside him.

"Of what? Dying of boredom.", Alfred sighed. There really were a hell of a lot of stairs spiraling high enough overhead for his sky blue eyes to lose all sight of them.

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"Holy crap!", Alfred wheezed, falling forward onto a landing, "I am going to find the asshole who put all those in and make him run laps up and down them!"

Alfred looked around the room from his prone position. It was embarrassingly decorated with a wealth of embroidery everything-pillows, coverlets, hell even tea cozies which was good cause there were a lot of tea sets as well. Top it all off with more fairies figures that could be found outside of a Renaissance fair and you had yourself a room chalk filled of old lady's delights.

"Wow, look at all the damn kitsch. This chick is so lame.", Alfred rolled his eyes as he picked himself off of the floor. He immediately noticed a prone figure lying in a bed of dark scarlet roses, hands clasped evenly about a slender waist. Alfred drew closer realizing something quite quickly despite his (well-earned) reputation of not being able to read the atmosphere well.

"No way! It's a guy?!", Alfred yelled in disbelief poking at a flat chest and its total lack of boobage. Sure enough, a young man laid out in elegant repose, dressed in the finest garbs of his time, all scarlet silks of the royal's apparel, very military like. Alfred's gaze was helplessly caught as it lingered on the Prince's fair profile.

Pale sandy blond hair the color of fine pale gold looked feather soft to the touch despite its messy, choppy appearance. It surrounded a graceful porcelain visage of small features and trailed down to lightly brush at a slender, graceful neck. It framed a small delicately featured face with high cheekbones and soft sculpted lips, a delicate shade of palest pink. A pair of thick, dark eyebrows did nothing to truly mar the face as long thick lashes brushed the tops of smooth cheeks. His skin was a pale creamy white of flawlessness Alfred didn't think was actually humanly possible, and though his body and frame was slender, the Prince did not give off an air of delicate weakness. His small pale, slender hands with their long fingers cradled a full rose bloom in their steepled recesses, the flower even caught in sleep.

"Holy shit…..", Alfred whispered, "They weren't kidding about those eyebrows.". He poked at the caterpillars, half expecting them to crawl off.

"You still cute though.", Alfred mused, letting his finger slide down the arch of a soft cheek unmarked by the passing of time. Alfred looked around carefully, listening for a moment.

"I guess I should check out the goods before I buy.", Alfred said thoughtfully, hooking a finger into the uniform's top button.

"Al…..What do you think you are doing?", came Matthew's voice just mere inches from him, in a quiet judging tone. Alfred jumped vertically a few feet trying desperately not to look like he had been just catch with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Ummmmm…..doing?….ah….Pulse? Yeah pulse! I was checking for a pulse!", Alfred obscufated quickly, cause technically he could have been just doing a very through job of it, "Had to be sure, right?" Matthew glared back in answer lightly touching the Prince's wrist.

"Like this? Yup there it is. It's called a pulse point Al. You know…where you find a pulse.", Matthew growled.

"Aw c'mon Mattie! You know I've always sucked at geography!", Alfred grinned back sheepishly. Matthew shook his head in disgust as the twins were joined by the brothers.

"What's Al doing now? Being a tard, a pervert, or both?", Gilbert leered checking out the sleeping beauty of sorts. Alfred sidled up to him to block his view, feely oddly protective all of a sudden.

"Nothing.", the American mumbled in response. Meanwhile, Ludwig stood over the prince, taking long notes as he checked various vital signs and responses or lack there of.

"This is all very interesting but if we are done here then we really should go.", Ludwig stated firmly, flipping his journal shut with a snap.

"Awwww….we're just going to leave him here?", Alfred groaned, playing with the prince's sleeve hem, his fingertips lingering on soft skin with the barest of warmth to it.

"We are not dragging him around with us. I don't care how strong you are! People will think we are traveling with a corpse. That is definitely not good for business.", Ludwig explained impatiently.

"Depends on what kind of business.", Gilbert snickered, poking the prince in the cheek.

"That's disgusting and stop that!", Alfred snapped, slapping Gil's hand away.

"Just saying.", Gilbert smirked, his scarlet eyes alighting on the distraught figure of the American who looked truly torn for some reason.

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Now at that moment, an idea sparked like wildfire in the albino's skull. Unbeknownst by all, Gilbert loved Matthew or at the very least wanted to screw him soundly into a mattress. Anyone else in the world with functioning eyes could see it, but when you are traveling with the sexually repressed, the idiotic, and the terminally shy, these type of things can get overlooked. Only problem….well problems were constant cockblocks one and two, not to mention the fact that Matthew didn't seem to be interested in the slice of awesome pie he was serving, but that was just a minor detail. No one could ignore the awesome for long.

If he could just distract or hell even marry Alfred off to the prince, that would only leave Ludwig. Then it was only a matter of time before all that sweet maple goodness was his.

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"Al. You should do it.", Gilbert said suddenly with a sincere, almost devout conviction any saint would envy.

"HUH?!", was the collective response.

"Idiot! Kiss the prince!", Gilbert pushed, gesturing down to the still figure.

As Ludwig stared at his brother in horror at the absurd suggestion and Matthew gaped openly at the very thought of it, Alfred considered things.

Well…..he was cute looking even with the eyebrows. Hell, he was even beautiful despite them. His room was filled with lots of girly stuff so the prince probably had a very sweet nature and was gentle as a lamb. He seemed to believe in fairies if his extensive collection was any indication so he was definitely a pure soul, with an innocent naivety. He probably even had a long flowery name Alfred could make cute little nicknames with and the prince would bat those long eyelashes of his up at him and swoon.

"I'll do it!", Alfred yelled, totally enamored with his visions of them skipping through flowered fields together where the Prince would hand feed him home made delicacies that he had tenderly made for his hero.

"You have got to be kidding.", Matthew said in disbelief, staring at his twin incredulously.

"It makes perfect sense.", Alfred agreed with his own head, lost again to visions of long walks on the beach and romantic evening that led to other things. Matthew snapped his fingers in front of his face, trying to get him back as Alfred giggled to himself ridiculously. Matthew shot a questioning look to Ludwig who shrugged back, his look clearly saying Your-guess-is-as-good-as-mine. Alfred managed to pull himself back to reality upon realizing he actually had to kiss the prince to achieve his sweet dream.

Alfred leaned over the Prince's body, his palms suddenly very sweaty. The prince's lips were so soft looking, tinged a delicate shade of kissable pink. Alfred cupped the graceful visage before him to tilt it slightly upward, rubbing a callused thumb along a plush bottom lip. Alfred gently pressed his chapped lips to the rosebud mouth, parting its entrance with a deft tongue to dip into a moist sweetness. Alfred was surprised at the pleasant taste of it, like honey, lemon, and black tea. He delved deeper, running a slick muscle over ridges, teeth, and the still tongue he found there as well, giving it his all. His fingers sought to grip on the pale shimmering locks of gold finding them as soft as he thought they would be, loving how the satin of it brushed through his fingertips. His free hand ran freely over the contours of a wiry frame, mapping out its planes and valleys, marking it with caresses as Alfred felt a wanton desire rise up in him, the room and its other occupants fading out of his existence.

Which is why he failed to notice the small but very hard fist that connected neatly with his jaw, sending Alfred flying to the floor.

"WHAT IN BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, YOU SODDING WANKER!?"

Alfred looked up to see the very awake prince, flushed a deep shade of crimson, glaring down at him with eyes the color of acid. Not daunted, Alfred popped right back up to rub his jaw irritably.

"What gives?! I was trying to wake you up with my heroic kiss of awesome!", Alfred met the look level much to the other's surprise.

"Oh! Is that all, poppet? I thought you were trying to suffocate me with that great thick gob of yours.", the prince retorted, scathing sarcasm fairly dripping off of each and every word. His bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise as a realization dawned on him. "I'm awake!", the prince gasped.

"Well no shit.", Alfred grumbled, spitting out some blood. He was a little impressed. For a pansy royal dude, he had one hell of a left hook. The prince's elation at being aroused from his long slumber was short-lived though.

"Oh gods…that means….", he started to trail off awkwardly as the prince stared openly at his betrothed who grinned back.

"Yup! I'm your hero!", Alfred beamed.

"….I'm engaged to an idiot.", the prince finished, looking nauseous.

"An idiot? Who?", Alfred asked, looking around before his brain caught up with the conversation. "Hey! That's not nice!"

"He's got you there Al!", Gilbert laughed, mostly in his own victory. Even if the royal midget didn't end up marrying him(which seemed more and more unlikely with each passing second), the prince would probably end up killing him, so win win really.

"Interesting. Truly love's kiss?", Ludwig dutifully noted.

"Fools rush in? Breakdown in the spell due to time?", Matthew offered., hazarding random guesses.

"You ancient ingrate! You could still be collecting dust if not for the hero's total love and devotion toward you.", Alfred grumbled, pouting a bit at the feisty prince, who froze at his words.

"B-but you don't even know me…Anyway, you are not even a girl…..", the prince fumbled, his cheeks growing scarlet again but for much different reasons than before this time.

"So you're not either. I didn't think it mattered. Cute is cute.", Alfred countered shrugging, "But whatever. Let's go guys."

"W-wait! Where do you think you are going?", the prince sputtered, looking around at the group, somewhat confused, "Who are you people?"

"What do you care? You are awake now. Go do whatever the hell princes do.", Alfred said a bit harshly, turning away to leave as he shoved his clenched hands deep into his pockets, "I'm Alfred, that's Matthew, that's Ludwig, and the creeper is Gilbert(Hey! Arschloch!)". He was feeling quite put out that the prince was less that thrilled to see him, his dreams crushed in the light of those angry forest eyes.

"I just thought you might like a reward or something", the prince said nervously, " since you did wake me up. I am grateful." He felt he had been terribly rude, but princes didn't apologize…..well, at least he didn't. Anyway, it was the giant git's fault in the first place for being so forward.

He stepped back almost falling back over the bed when Alfred strode forward, pinning him with a steely azure glare.

"You sure got a funny way of showing it and don't put a price tag on my feelings. We got things to do royal dude. Can't hang out here all day shooting the shit with your royal pain in the assness.", Alfred said in a low cold tone. The prince realized belated he had deeply insulted the other, if not by his tone alone then by the look of shock on his companions' faces upon hearing it. The prince rallied, though he was unable to apologize in the face of such blatant and honest feeling.

"You Git! How dare you! It is not royal dude or any other ridiculous name you have for me! I am Prince Arthur Kirkland, the first of my name and one of the crown princes of Britannia! You will address me as so or by the merciful gods I will have you tossed head first into the dungeons!".

There was a long moment of awkward silence after that eloquent delivery shattered completely when Alfred about fell over laughing.

"Dude! Even your name is way old.", Alfred managed out between breathes.

"I am not old you horrid ponce! I was under an enchantment!", Arthur snapped.

"Whatever Artie.", Alfred chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the sight of the prince unraveling before him. His visions of his dream prince may have gone up in flames but the reality of this just might be better.

Arthur stared back openly at the sheer audacity on the American's part, dumbstruck by it. No one had ever dared to talk back to him in such a manner. Most people didn't dare talk to him at all actually. He was….had always been the cursed prince doomed to if not die, then sleep forever. Among the servants, the running joke had been he would have had to sleep for a generation or two cause no one would want to marry someone so sour.

Arthur had taken up embroidery in defiance really, eventually learning to like it. Everyone thought he was mad. In turn, he thought everyone else was stupid. The curse had been on a spindle needle not an embroidery needle, but it kept others far away from him including his own family. Arthur had grown up alone and bitter with only his fairy friends for company because of all this. In the end, it was not a trick or a spell that had made his hand seek out the spindle needle. He could have avoided that fate forever if need be. It was his own loneliness that cut him to the wick, that aching emptiness devoid of all but a faint glimmer of hope that true love's kiss, if it ever came or was even real, would make him whole again.

"True love's kiss.", Arthur's mind spat back at him bitterly. It was just a farce like everything else. A damnable idiot with his misfit friends somehow managed to wake him up to be utterly alone again. Arthur decided he would rather just sleep till the end of days. See his 'love' was already moving to leave him.

Alfred watched the prince cycle through waves of emotion, his emerald eyes washing out to aching shades of emptiness and dull accepting sadness. It made his whole being ache to bear witness to it. Turning on his heel, Alfred abruptly changed directions to pick up Arthur, caging him in his arms. The Prince struggled under the assault, finding the grip too strong for him to break.

"Put me down peasant.", Arthur growled, the rest cut off when lips were pressed hungrily to his own. He froze in place as his orifice was ravaged thoroughly, leaving him breathless and panting. An iron grip on his jaw made clover meet sky.

"You should have just let me leave, little prince. I want my reward now.", Alfred said quietly, though his words carried deep. Arthur managed a glower back at him.

"How perfectly vulgar of you. I should have expected something like this from someone low born. Do you want your little friends to watch or am I to service them as well?", Arthur growled. Matthew and Ludwig about exploded from their mutual blushes if they hadn't been too busy tackling the Prussian into submission and keeping him quiet. Alfred's eyes went wide in his own surprise.

As demoralizing as it was, a part of Arthur shivered at the very thought. Loneliness sparks desperation and desperation in turn sparks certain…needs. Plus, no one ever wanted to do it with him before much less touch him in fear that the curse of contagious. Lack of human contact had left Arthur with an awkward fear but burning want of it too. He suddenly felt dizzy from the mix of opposing emotions. His anxiety and heart rate spiked to new heights when the American started to laughed again.

"How generous. You said I could have a reward. I assumed that it could be anything.", Alfred smirked, licking his chapped lips slowly. Arthur swallowed hard.

"Yes." he barely whispered, mentally preparing himself for anything, well almost anything.

"Then I want you. All of you. Till death do us part.", Alfred smiled, lightly kissing the tip of the prince's pert nose. Arthur stared up in shock at him, his mouth open in wonderment.

"C-come again?", he stuttered, thinking somehow he had misheard.

"I want you Prince Arthur Kirkland, the first of your name and one of the crown princes of Britannia and only you.", Alfred told him slowly, brushing back stray locks of unruly hair with a gentle touch.

"But…..no one wants me.", Arthur told him plainly, numbed into complete honesty from the confession. Alfred broke out into a grin in reply.

"I do.", Alfred murmured, pressing kisses to flushed cheeks.

"But why?", Arthur asked, feeling lost and confused, but strangely fine with it all.

"Because…..", Alfred sang in a pleasant tenor, twirling them around the room, "I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam.. And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you do. You love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream."

"Ahem….Pardon-moi?"

Alfred and Arthur came up short so that the blue eyed twin could glare at his brother. He had been so close to a swoon, damn it!

"This is all very sweet and touching but…..", Matthew stuttered.

"Yes, yes it is. Very sweet. And very touching so why don't you fuck off.", Alfred said softly through clenched teeth. Crap, he had forgotten about the others, Ludwig practically sitting on top of his brother to keep him from interfering, someone's sock shoved into his mouth.

"Oh maple….Your highness..?", Matthew continued despite his brother's death glare.

"Um yes….squire?", Arthur guessed. If he was openly honest, Arthur would have to admit he had not even seen the other man until now.

"Was I correct in hearing that you were a prince of Britannia?", Matthew asked hesitantly.

"Yes of course. Our lands reach far and wide to the crest of the…Wait a bloody moment, what do you mean 'were'?", Arthur snapped, getting a very bad feeling.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Britannia is no more. Your kingdom was dissolved a long time ago. In fact, this place now lies in what today is now known as England."

"You are such a buzz kill, Mattie.", Alfred sighed, supporting the former prince as he grew lax with shock over the news.

"Ja. It has been gone for almost a thousand years if not more.", Ludwig explained patiently(at least for him).

Arthur motioned feebly to be set down on the bed, Alfred obeying reluctantly. "So basically you are all telling me I owe a debt of marriage to a giant git and I have no kingdom?", Arthur processed this loudly slowly.

"Don't forget all the people in the castle waking up as well.", Gilbert chimed in, somehow managed to get the sock out of his mouth. It had been Matthew's so he wasn't too put out about it. Arthur paled under that bit of news.

"Oh bliss, a future mob. Anything else?", Arthur asked numbly.

"No. That aboot covers it.", Matthew nodded.

"Ja, in a nutshell.", Gilbert echoed.

Lesser men would of crumbled under such news. The prince…the former prince nodded, jumping up to shed his crimson garments quickly as he dug through a chest at the end of the bed. Ducking behind a changing screen with some random garments, he soon emerged again dressing in a long hooded emerald cloak, a plain white linen shirt, and brown pants tucked into knee high boots. Grabbing a satchel, he bounced around the room grabbing various items-thick occult books, medicine, money(he figured gold is gold, it all spends) and the random jewel-to shove into the pack. He finished by strapping a sword to his side, retrieving a longbow as well with a full brace of arrows.

"Whatcha doing?", Alfred asked, leaning over him obtrusively.

"What does it look like git?! I'm coming with you!", Arthur snapped, though his tone was rather calm.

"How do you figure that, princess? We don't have time to baby-sit former royalty.", Gilbert countered. This was so not turning out how he wanted. He found his scarlet gaze met solidly with an unwavering emerald one.

"Who is the leader here?", Arthur asked, getting down to brass tacks.

"I am!", Alfred and Gilbert said at once quickly to be both smacked down completely by the large German boot of Shut-The-Hell-Up.

"He is.", the pair groaned, Ludwig nodding.

"Brilliant. I wish to hire out my services then. I have extensive knowledge various forms of the occult, sailing experience, weapons training with a forte in archery especially, riding, and military training dated though it may be, but I think it is safe to assume the pointy end still goes into the other bloke. I can also cook.", Arthur smoothly listed off his resume. Ludwig appreciated the streamlined delivery even if one bullet point was a blatant lie(they would find that out later, oh so horribly later). Ludwig still looked less that convinced though so Arthur threw in his ace.

"I also can get you more treasure that you can carry and past all the waking guards.", Arthur told him confidently.

"You're hired, but we have no horses."

"I think I can help out with that.", Arthur smirked.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO

"Good thing the horses were up before the guards!"

"Yeah, no shit! Check out this haul!"

"Al, did you steal that?!"

"Dude, it's called winning! Arthur's my fiancé so technically half of it's mine anyway.", Alfred laughed, pushing up his newly liberated crown.

"First off, I am hardly your fiancé. Secondly, I hate you. And lastly, that looks ridiculous on you!", Arthur snapped, not really feeling to particularly bad about it. It was technically his parent's fault for not inviting the damn blue fairy in the first place plus they had always liked his older brothers better anyway(the poor sodding cursed bastards wherever they were). Thinking about it, his parents were complete and utter bollocks at the whole parenting thing. Arthur had gotten off light compared to his older siblings. At least the tall self proclaimed hero was cute but not that he would ever admit it.

Gilbert watched in his peripheral as pale cheeks dusted with color and emerald eyes kept secretly glancing over to the oblivious American who was useless at reading the atmosphere.

"Kesesesesesese! I could still make this work…", Gilbert smirked, his crimson gaze shifting to a certain Canadian who shivered, sneezing lightly.

"So Mattie what is down the road?"

"Well….just to be on the safe side, I think we should leave these isles."

"I agree.", Ludwig grunted, tired of bad beer and worse food with a total lack of wursts.

"We do have business across the channel in France.", Matthew reminded them all.

"Bugger me.", Arthur grumbled.

"Don't leave us hanging! What are we doing next?"

"Something aboot a frog prince…."


	3. Chapter 3

Five travelers bickered quite loudly through the thick back woods of France. Ludwig, the German leader of this merry(?…..disgruntled, bitter, mutinous maybe) band, sometimes felt like he was leading the damned the way they bitched.

Gilbert- his older brother, self proclaimed Prussian(for whatever reason) and permanent pain in his ass- was currently trying to put his awesome(at least in his mind anyway-the world begged to differ) moves on the less than receptive Canadian, one of the North American twins. Ludwig kept forgetting his name for some reason. The violet eyed blonde with polar bear in arms was permanently labeled in his head as 'Al's bruder'. It was shorter that 'The guy who is really helpful, polite, and more responsible than either of the other two idiots and I really should try to remember his name in case I am ever getting eaten by a troll'. Al's bruder was shielding himself with his cursed polar bear(whose curse made no one remember his name and he talked…..Ludwig was beginning to suspect that is was rubbing off on ole what's-his-face). The cub snapped irritably at the annoying Prussian and chick.

The other idiot(the self-proclaimed hero) was trying something similar with about as much success with their newest member, the English prince(well former prince) Arthur. The American's attempts were punctuated though with a lot more cussing and colorful phrasing.

"Are you taking a piss?", Arthur glared at his(accidental) fiancé upon hearing a particularly suggestive(and odd….something about a milkshake better than his?) comment.

Alfred looked down at himself…just in case…you never knew. He was a shaker, not a dabber.

"Um…..no?", he answered confused. Arthur made a disgusted sound, leaving Alfred quickly behind him to confront Ludwig.

"How long are we going to be in this horrid place?", Arthur demanded, blatantly ignoring the rather beautifully picturesque French countryside.

"I think it is quite nice here actually.", Ludwig said in carefully neutral tones, "Dryer too."

"Well I think it smells like cheap cologne, bad cheese, and worse company.", Arthur snapped. He eeped when he was suddenly picked up.

"Put me down git!", Arthur demanded(he actually shrieked but in a manly royal way of course), debating on whether or not to beat the American over the head with his sword.

"But I missed you Artie!", Alfred wailed, snuggling him close as he ignored the wave of purple practically pouring off of the Englishman. Arthur decided against using his weapon. Alfred's thick skull would prevent any real damage anyway(not that it would really matter in some people's opinions) and frankly Arthur didn't want to ruin the sword. He instead turned a very pretty shade of candy apple red, sputtering nonsensical things as he was treated like Snuggie.

The hunters had left the horses and the majority of their gear at the inn a few miles back, to search for their quarry on foot , the object of their search very small, mobile, and somewhat camouflaged. On the plus side though, it wasn't particularly very threatening unless you were a prude and/or had delicate sensibilities.

Gilbert took the break in their death march…..or so he had been calling it….to glomp Matthew. The Prussian learned the meaning of life fail when Matthew shifted to the side at the last moment, sending an airborne Gilbert face first into a nearby pond.

"No one panic! The hero will save you!", Alfred yelled, running toward the water, his arms still very full of panicking, flailing Englishman.

"Put me down first!", Arthur spazzed as the thick algae covered pond drew dangerously closer. In desperation, Arthur pulled sharply on the odd gravity defying piece of hair on Alfred's skull. It had been annoying the hell out of him anyway. The effect was immediate and very unexpected as Alfred fell boneless to his knees, moaning.

"Please don't do that.", Alfred whimpered, a scarlet wave painting his tanned cheeks a dusty color as he started to pant, " It's my kryptonite."

"What the bloody hell is kryptonite? Never mind…..", Arthur smirked, meeting hazy azure eyes curiously. He hadn't expected that. Arthur found it quite intriguing, the normally aggressive American so plaint and soft…..practically begging…..until he realized he was basically sitting on top of Alfred and his very prominent 'Ahem' little friend. Arthur went vertically airborne in an instant.

"Maple! He really can jump!", Matthew commented, watching his twin trying to beg Arthur down from the trees.

"Ja. Most impressive actually.", Ludwig noted in his journal.

"Hey Arschloch! That's alright! I'll just continue to drown here. You all just keep doing what you are doing!", Gilbert bitched, spitting out tepid water to sit up in the mud.

"It's your own fault bruder.", Ludwig snorted, not too worried about his kin. The green water only came up to his ankles. Gilbert picked a lily pad off of his sleeve with a look of disgust, his clothes coated with sludge and slimy green goo now. He also became aware that his fluffy, warm chick Gilbird had become particularly cold and slimy on top of his head, which was weird cause the small yellow bird was happily(and very smugly) nestling on top of Matthew's wavy locks.

"Awww, L'amore. It is a beautiful thing, yes?", came a voice from right above him. Gilbert looked up, his scarlet eyes meeting the sapphire blue orbs of a frog who peeked back at him over his spiky silver locks. Frog and man stared at each other for a long tense moment.

"Bonjour.", the frog said cheerfully, waving a webbed foot at him. Gilbert did the only thing he could think of.

"Get'em off! Get'em off! Get'em off! Get'em off! Get'em off!", he yelled, jumping out of the pond to run crazy circles around Ludwig. The taller German sighed heavily, grabbing the back of Gilbert's coat to cease his panicked laps while Matthew neatly plucked the dizzy frog off of his head.

Alfred was basically useless, moaning about blue balls while Arthur tried to decide between dieing of embarrassment or joining the ranks of squirrels to live in the tree indefinitely(even if it was in France).

Matthew adjusted his glasses as he peered over their slim silver rims, carefully studying the frog who leered back at him.

"Oh what beautiful eyes you have mon chere.", the frog cooed, making kissy faces at Matthew, which was actually quite impressive considering frogs don't have lips.

"Level 3 enchantment on him I think…..maybe a level 4. Pardonne-moi, but do you remember who you are?", Matthew asked politely, ignoring the salacious come ons that were making his skin crawl. The frog stopped his dirty administrations to glow with pride at Matthew's use of his beloved language, preening slightly.

"Anything for one who speaks in the language of love. But of course, mon amour! I have and always been the famous crown prince of Gaul, Francis-", the frog began, only to be interrupted abruptly.

"Bonnafoy!", came a startling battle cry from the trees as Arthur jumped down, landing on Alfred's vital regions(SWEET LADY LIBERTY! MY NUTS AND BERRIES, DUDE!), stomping over to point at the now glaring frog.

Francis glowered in partial disbelief and unhidden malice at the former prince, pointing a webbed toe back at him just as dramatically.

"YOU!"

"YOU! How in the bleeding hell are you still alive!?", Arthur yelled, the pair's purple waves clashing like mighty opposing tides.

"I could ask you the same thing!", Francis spat back….literally….his long pink tongue darted out to smack wetly at the Englishman's cheek.

"You two know each other? That seems highly unlikely…", Ludwig asked surprised.

"Like I could mistake him for another! This wine bastard's family has been trying to take over Britannia for as long as I can remember!", Arthur snarled, lunging at the equally angry amphibian. Francis escaped his grasp to sit on tip of Matthew's head while the German's tackled Arthur, Gilbert eventually sitting on top of him.

"Oi! Let me up tosser! I have to kill him!", Arthur raged at the soggy Prussian.

"What a compelling argument, but nein.", Gilbert sneezed, bored, wet and thoroughly put out. He had been denied Canadian glompage, was cold, and had something totally not cute or awesome on his head. He didn't see why anyone else should get what they wanted even if frog homicide with extreme malicious intent was amusing.

"Arthur….he is just a little frog. I would hardly call that a threat.", Matthew said patiently, said frog still on his head. It was currently molesting his wavy locks.

"Merci beaucoup! I am eternally grateful. Perhaps we could celebrate this liaison with a little kiss?", Francis puckered, using his long legs to hang over Matthew's head via Spiderman kissing style(cause he's all talented like that)

"That's it! You can kill him!", Gilbert growled, starting to get up to have Ludwig push him back into place. "Stay bruder."

Gilbert made angry little noises, glaring red death at the frog molesting his maple eye candy.

"Why do you want me to kiss you?", Matthew asked calmly, getting back to the subject at hand as he moved Francis back to his open palm. The amphibian sighed dejectedly, giving him a pained look.

"Well besides the obvious my little dish of love, I have to. The witch who cursed me said it would be a kiss that sets me free.", Francis lamented, "As you can imagine not a lot of people want to kiss a frog no matter how well I pull this look off."

"What kind of kiss though? True love's kiss? The kiss of innocence? The kiss of….", Matthew began listing off some of the more popular ones. The frog shrugged in answer.

"She was not, how you say, very forthcoming about it I'm afraid.", Francis sighed.

"Why not? Usually in redemption tales, the witch or villain almost always gives the cursed the keys to their own salvation.", Matthew mused.

"The sword splitting her gut into two may have something to do with that, I think. Mon papa was not pleased by this as you can imagine.", Francis explained.

"What did you do? Sleep with her then kick the tart's arse to the curb? Never could keep it in your knickers.", Arthur said smugly.

"And you never got an offer to take it out. You wound me, Angleterre. I did not sleep with her…..", Francis retorted haughtily.

"Shocking really.", Arthur sniffed.

"…..I slept with her sister.", Francis finished. Arthur rolled his eyes in contempt.

"Brilliant.", he scoffed.

"A beautiful woman scorned I am afraid. If only she had been more patient. I would have shared my love with her too.", Francis sighed forlornly.

"Whore."

"Jealous."

"Hardly. Even that is giving you far to much credit. Whores charge for their services. You're just a slut.", Arthur cackled, "Serves you right."

Francis threw little fit in Matthew's hand forcing him to balance the frog with two as he flailed about.

"You are just bitter! At least I have experienced love and not had to rely on my own hands for pleasure.", Francis cried. Arthur started to grow red with a heady mixture of anger and embarrassment until he remembered something important. The realization made him spring up to laugh with victory, sending Gilbert flying back into the pond.

"Sod off frog! I'm not cursed anymore and I have a fiancé unlike other princes who are still slimy and living in the muck!", Arthur bragged confidently.

"What!? I don't believe you! He must be blind, deaf, stupid, or crazy then, though I am heavily betting on all four.", Francis scoffed weakly. Arthur did look particularly pleased with himself.

Though he would never admit it aloud, Arthur thought Alfred was actually quite handsome. The strapping American was tall with golden tanned skin, honey blonde hair that sparkled metallic in light, sky blue eyes like rare jewels, and a bright pearly smile that seemed endless. Paired with a muscular physique and impressive inhuman strength, he was altogether a really attractive package. As long as Alfred didn't open his damn mouth, Arthur was sure Francis would die of jealousy. Thinking of him, where in the devil was that blasted American?

Arthur looked around in time to see Alfred chasing after some butterflies, for whatever reason, not paying any attention to where he was going or who was getting out of the pond…again. Alfred slammed bodily into Gilbert sending them both into the drink marked by a goopy splash of mud and slime.

"I can see the appeal. May you have a long marriage to an idiot. Do you plan on potty training him before or after the honeymoon?", Francis snickered, shaking with barely contained laughter.

"Aw bugger….At least, my curse is broken.", Arthur muttered sulkily, glairing at Alfred who was laughing happily, slinging handfuls of mud at an enraged Gilbert.

"It's just as well. No one could stand you during our time anyway.", Francis smirked, "and at least, you found someone stupid enough to marry you. I am afraid you were simply born a failure. My curse was simply unfortunate."

Arthur flushed deep red, his hands shaking as he glared wordlessly at the smug amphibian. Turning quickly on his heel, Arthur silently stormed off.

"That wasn't nice considering we are here to try and help you.", Matthew scolded, shaking his head at Francis.

"You are? Pourquoi?", the frog asked curiously, "We have never met. I would have remembered such a pretty face."

"One of your family's surviving relatives in Monaco requested our assistance upon receiving word you were harassing the locals.", Ludwig supplied, producing a letter with Monaco's seal of royalty .

"I was not harassing anyone. I just wish to spread my love.", Francis pouted.

"Nothing doing Arschgesicht. Keep that Scheiße to yourself.", Gilbert snapped, crawling away from the pond as far as possible now that he had escaped its watery depths once again and the American who seemed intent on covering every inch of his pale being with stinking greenish dirt. Alfred paused in throwing mud balls at him to look around.

"Where's Artie?"

Arthur wandered into a nearby field, flopping down in a patch of wildflowers. He tore the blooming stalks up idly in gloomy anger.

"Damn frog. What the hell does he know anyway?", Arthur muttered. So what if he had always been more popular at court, that his hair was always styled and silky, that he always had friends or that people seemed to love and adore him even though he was a pompous jerk. Whatever…..it wasn't like he cared….not even a little bit. Or was jealous…..not one bit. He was fine with being alone. It gave him more time to read, and sew, and…be by himself…..like always.

Arthur curled up, resting his head on his knees while willing himself not to cry by biting his lip sharply. Princes don't cry….

…..but he wasn't a prince anymore…..he wasn't anything anymore.

Arthur was startled out of his morose thoughts by someone heavily sitting down next to him. He lifted his head to see Alfred grinning at him still covered from head to toe in mud. Arthur scowled back at him, turning his head away to blatantly ignore him in favor of his sulk. Alfred just started to hum to himself, collecting up the all the flowers and stalks Arthur had pulled up earlier.

"What are you doing?", Arthur asked irritably after a moment, "Those are ruined. Just useless bits of rubbish now." He watched as the American played with them, adding more to their bunches as his long callused fingers knotted and wove the flora together. Alfred just smiled softly back as he worked, looping fibrous stalks together with delicate petals until his project formed itself into a flowered crown. He set it gently on top of Arthur's fair head.

"You give up on things too quickly.", Alfred laughed, leaning in to kiss Arthur's cheek, "including yourself."

Arthur looked away though he hesitantly reached up to touch his new crown. The blossoms' scent lingered sweet in the air as he felt their silky petals. He found of all the headpieces he had had to wear in his lifetime, this one was his favorite.

"I'm not a prince anymore.", Arthur sighed, dropping his hand, his tone a touch bitter, "I have no idea why you continue to insist on being with me. Surely I can repay you in some other way." He squeaked in surprise as Arthur was dragged bodily into a solid lap and held very close.

"I'll let you in on a little secret but you got to keep it to yourself.", Alfred whispered, looking about carefully. Intrigued, Arthur ignored the intimate contact, even going so far as to lean in closer.

"What?", he whispered back. Alfred held a tense breath, looking around again. He turned back to brush his lips against the shell of Arthur's ear, making the former royal shiver, his skin tingling from the meager contact.

"I'm not a prince either.", Alfred managed to say in a solemn tone before breaking out into a warm smile, "And I don't care that you aren't either. I like you just the way you are." Alfred used their closeness to his advantage, taking the opportunity to close the gap between them as he pressed his lips to the stunned Englishman's.

Arthur became very aware of several things in that instant, the first being that Alfred was a very good kisser. The other being that he like it a lot. Unfortunately though, he also noticed that the American smelled like a ditch, his moisture seeping into Arthur's own clothing now as well.

"Bllech!", Arthur groaned, pushing Alfred away as he jumped up, "Clean yourself off. You smell French!." Head down, he strode off in a hurry from the still seated American in hopes that his escape would hide his blushing grin. Alfred easily caught up to him, grabbing his hand so that the two could walk side by side. Arthur refused to look at him but laced their fingers together in a tight grip. Alfred grinned down at him, debating whether or not he had time to sneak in another kiss before they joined the others.

The answer to that was a firm and very definite 'Fuck No' as Francis was suddenly shoved into Arthur's face, the pair's lips smashing together.

"WWWWWHHHHHYYYYYYY!?", Arthur screamed falling down to the ground to start rubbing dirt into his mouth.

"Just dump me back into the pond. I wish to shuffle off this mortal coil elegantly. Please remember me as the lovely beautiful thing I am.", Francis sobbed, flopping back like the little drama queen he was into Matthew's arms.

"Just tell me why?!", Arthur begged, considering various types of foliage next to him in an effort to cleanse his palette.

"Yeah, Why?", Alfred growled, glaring at his brother and Ludwig who was taking notes.

"Sorey Arthur, but it's simply the process of elimination. We all have to do it.", Matthew stated calmly, holding up the bedraggled frog to Alfred.

"I'm good.", Alfred said, pushing the offered amphibian away. It looked a little green and not in the good way.

"It would be stupid not to eliminate ourselves first. The sooner his curse is broken, the sooner we get paid.", Ludwig sighed, not really looked forward to his own kiss.

"Keseseseses. We also knew he wouldn't do it.", Gilbert added, watching Arthur continue to spaz out.

"So kiss the frog and get it over with.", Matthew said, presenting Francis again to Alfred who shrugged. He gave the frog a quick peck on the top of its head.

"Tastes like chicken.", he said, licking his lips.

"Keep him away from me.", Francis cringed as he was offered next to Gilbert.

"I'm awesome, I'm awesome, I'm awesome….", Gilbert chanted to himself, the pep talk doing wonders as he smooched the frog.

"But not awesome enough.", Francis snorted, rolling his eyes.

Ludwig was next, being quick and efficient about it.

"Boo. So frigid. I'm the one who is supposed to be cold blooded here.", Francis teased.

"That leaves me, I guess.", Matthew said. Francis practically threw himself at the Canadian, eager for his kiss. Meanwhile, Gilbert sweated bullets.

There was a chance, slim it was, that Francis would change back. Then Matthew would have to marry him. Scheiße, that was not part of the plan!

Gilbert rushed forward to stop Matthew, but the terrible deed was already done.

…

….

"Sorey. Not me either.", Matthew said. Gilbert practically fainted with relief.

"You tried. Such is life, yes?", Francis sighed, "It would appear I am destined to stay a frog."

"No worries there then.", Arthur snickered.

"La, how I have missed Angleterre's wit. It's as dry and tasteless as I remember. So much like your cooking.", Francis sniffed.

"Oi! I'll have you know my food tastes great!", Arthur said indignantly.

"How droll. Are you still claiming your pathetic attempts at cooking(and I use the term loosely) are edible?", Francis smirked.

"Well, I'll just have to prove you wrong then. Alright lads, it's settled. I'm making dinner tonight.", Arthur stated firmly.

"Mon Dieu! Run! Save yourselves.", Francis warned, reclaiming Matthew's shoulder to glare in disgust at the overly confident Brit.

"Yay! Food!", Alfred cheered, visions of delicate delights already forming in his mind's eye. He wondered if he could get Arthur to feed them to him, all romantic like…..and then they could do this….and a little that.

"Wow he's gone.", Matthew sighed, shaking his head at his twin as he snapped his fingers at Alfred, who stared off into space drooling and muttering to himself, "That's sounds great Arthur."

"Why do you all think I am joking? I assure you, I am most serious.", Francis stared back at the group in horror filled disbelief.

"How bad could it be?", Gilbert shrugged.

"Worse than you can ever imagine, mon ami."

And it was.

So horribly was.


	4. Chapter 4

"I still don't see why we had to take him along.", Arthur snapped, trying(and failing) to ignore the newest addition to the group, currently residing on Matthew's shoulder.

"We couldn't just leave him. Anyway the more chances Francis has to kiss people, the higher the odds of him changing back.", Matthew told him patiently for what felt like the hundredth time that day alone.

"And us getting paid. Don't worry I am charging Monaco's nobility for room and board.", Ludwig informed them

"So you are padding the bill.", Gilbert snickered only to be met back with stony stares, "You know 'padding', as in lily pad…he's a frog…."

"We are quite aware. We were attempting to left you off gracefully, you divvy idiot.", Arthur said stiffly with a look of distaste.

"Screw you guys for not appreciating the awesome that is me.", Gilbert huffed. "You liked it, right?", the Prussian muttered up to his chick. Gilbird nodded back enthusiastically. In the chick's defense, he was only a baby bird and didn't know a lot about bad puns and such. He did knew enough though not to bite(or peck in his case)the hand that feeds him seed. Gilbert looked way too pleased with himself after that.

"We could cook him.", Arthur offered, getting back to the matter at hand with an evil gleam in his emerald eyes. The frog sniffed haughtily at him unimpressed as he regarded the Englishman coldly.

"Hopefully not by you Angleterre. I would prefer a burial to a cremation or at the very least for someone to actually appreciate my elegant succulence preferable with a nice Sauvignon Blanc.", Francis said snidely, "That is a chilled white wine aperitif by the way, not the warm swill you would serve."

"My cooking is perfectly acceptable! Tell him lads!", Arthur yelled, looking to his traveling companions for support. He was met with a wall of silence as the other's gazes locked onto whatever was in front of them or above.

"Wow! Look at that sky!", Gilbert said overly loud.

"Ja. Very blue and sky like.". Ludwig agreed appreciatively.

"Maple, I have never noticed that before. Clouds and everything.", Matthew added.

"What are we talking about? Why is everyone looking up? Are we getting attacked again by flying monkeys!?", Alfred asked confused. He hadn't been paying any attention to the conversation, too busy thinking about being all heroic while saving Arthur from dragons and stuff to be rewarded with smooches. Arthur glared back at them all malevolently.

"Don't be like that. You know it sucks. The fact that Al seems to be the only one who can keep it down and then ask for seconds is a true testament to his inhuman ability to survive poisoning.", Ludwig sighed, "That, or the first bite completely removed all of his taste buds. It is still up for debation."

"It sometimes makes me see pretty colors that talk. Blue is pretty cool to hang out with but orange can be a real asshole.", Alfred said dreamily. Matthew shot him a worried look, making a mental note not to let him eat any of Arthur's attempt for a while.

"I appears I sit corrected with that rave review alone.", Francis snickered rudely.

"Belt up. Where the hell are we now anyway?", Arthur snapped, desperate for a change in subject.

"Can't you tell? Feel it in the air? Smell it on the wind?", Gilbert asked.

"What? Mediocrity? Failure?", Arthur countered flatly.

"Close enough. We are in the land of great food, drunken cowards, and sex fiends.", Gilbert said gleefully.

"And here I thought we had already left France.", Arthur said dryly.

"Don't be bitter good food has never been associated with you. Good sex for that matter either.", Francis said smugly.

"Cor, that's it! Just give the frog here! I'm going to brain him!", Arthur yelled, drawing his sword to lean over, haphazardly whacking at Matthew with it. Arthur yelped when he was pulled from his saddle bodily into Alfred's lap to be cuddle attacked with serious intentions of kissing.

"What in blazes!? Stop that!", the former prince bellowed as he blushed crimson, his weapon forgotten in hand.

"It is so sweet you saved yourself for your hero!", Alfred cooed down at the enraged Brit, pressing kisses to the line of a flushed throat.

"WHAT!? Sod off git!", Arthur struggled wondering how his virginity got pulled into this as he suddenly remembered he had a sword and was more that willing to use it.

As Ludwig rode over to extract Arthur from Alfred without injury, Gilbert took the opportunity to ride up stealthily beside Matthew, who was staring off into space again.

"So liebling…..", Gilbert started to whisper huskily, leaning over to steal a kiss from plush lips. What he pressed his own lips to was a soft moist surface, just not the one he wanted as he focused his crimson eyes to stare at frog butt.

"Oh hon hon hon.", Francis chuckled, looking over his shoulder to leer evilly at the stunned Prussian.

Gilbert promptly fell off of his horse.

"What are you doing, cervelle d'oiseau?", Matthew asked, snapped out of his daydream by the sound of fail.

"Showing the ground how awesome I am.", Gilbert growled, shooting a glare up at the frog, who wiggle his butt back at him, smacking it.

"How's that working for you, eh?", Matthew quirked, raising an eyebrow at the fallen Prussian.

"It's good. I'm just going to stay here for a minute, chew some gravel to get the taste of perv out of my mouth, find my dignity….", Gilbert muttered, Matthew already riding off.

"Cockblocks…..I'm surrounded by cockblocks….", Gilbert muttered as he stood to dust himself off. He paused mid-action upon hearing a strange sweet voice.

"Hey hey papa, give me wine! Hey hey mama, hey hey mama! I can't forget the taste of the bolognese I ate before! Draw a circle, there's Earth! Draw a circle, there's Earth! Draw a circle, there's Earth! I'm Hetalia! Draw a circle, there's Earth! Looking closely, there's Earth! Or maybe it's Earth? I'm Hetalia!"

All of the company paused to stare as a petite auburn hair girl come singing out of the woods, skipping in time to her song as she swung a wicker basket about carelessly. She wore a short red dress cinched at the narrow waist by a tight black leather corset. Finished off with knee high shiny leather boots and a long hooded crimson cloak, she was a pedo bear's wet dream and the living stuff of weird fetishes. The maiden appeared to be rather flaky as well as she passed by their obvious group still singing her song.

"Well isn't she special.", Arthur rolled his eyes. He chucked some acorns at her head for any type of response. They dinged off unnoticed.

"Deaf?", Matthew guessed.

"Flaky?", Alfred said, in really a case of the pot calling the kettle black.

"She's beautiful.", Ludwig sighed breathily, an odd soft look on his usually expressionless face. The whiplash of necks was audibly as all turned as one to stare at the now blushing German with obvious reason. Gilbert dissolved into unchecked laughter while Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose in distain. He had really thought that the older German was smarter that this. Matthew looked embarrassed for him while Francis just looked like a total perv(but that was normal).

Confused, Alfred did a quick once over on the 'girl' again, thinking he had missed something. Nope…..sighting confirmed. That was a dude in a dress. A cute dude, but still a dude. That dress was short enough to confirm that he was packing hot dogs not hamburgers to the life picnic. Francis chose to wax poetic about it, rose in hand as he stared soulfully into its petal depths.  
"Aw L'amore. It is blind, yes?", Francis said poignantly.

"And so apparently are Germans.", Arthur snorted.

The lovely she…he…..non gender specific person finally deigned to notice their very blatantly obvious presence with a trembling scream.

"~Ve! Don't hit me! I have relatives from wherever you are from!", the confused(in more ways that one) person sobbed, ducking down to hide in plain sight under her red hood, waving a small white flag at them.

The group stared back at him in puzzled amusement. Alfred posed at the trembling mass with his finger, giggling at the tiny squeaks it produced.

"Stop that!", Arthur admonished him, kneeling down beside the red quaking lump.

"Would you like to lie down and relax for a tick? Here have a scone.", Arthur offered kindly.

The noxious food was snatched out of his hand by Ludwig who lobbed it overhead like a grenade far from sight.(A family of chipmunks were the poor victims of this unmerited attack when their home was struck by the baked good. They will be missed by their friends and families. RIP you poor lil woodland bastards).

"Poisoning is not a good way to introduce ourselves or so I have read.", Ludwig stated firmly, awkwardly patting the trembling mass on its head. The edge of the cloak produced a wary visage with strange side curl.

"~Ve, so you are not going to hit me?", it asked, slowly cracking open honey gold eyes to peer pleadingly up at the German. Ludwig practically melted under those miniature suns.

"Nein, we are not going to hurt you. You have my word.", he mumbled, still patting the soft head because he really didn't know when to stop(the manual had not allotted an exact increment of time). Luckily for them both, the 'girl' didn't seem to mind or notice.

"~Veeee! Hurray! Then we can all be good friends right?", he smiled sweetly, jumping up to hug(hang bodily off of) Ludwig. The German turned bright red, freezing into place from sheer embarrassment of the intimate contact.

"Oh Scheiße! This is awesome!", Gilbert thought giddily, "That confused little freak is so kidnapped!"

"I'm Feliciano Veneziano Vargas!", the Italian chirruped enthusiastically.

"That's a mouthful.", Ludwig muttered to receive an odd look.

"No, It's Italian.", Feliciano corrected confused. Ludwig face palmed, cringing at the sheer stupidity of the statement while trying to ignore the lithe form still clinging to his body. His brain wanted the Italian to let go but his heart(and other parts) wanted him to stay…..with maybe just the boots and cloak on. Ludwig's head momentarily imploded as certain x-rated images paraded naked around in his skull. Sighing, Arthur picked up the line of conversation smoothly enough when it was obvious no one else was. While Ludwig checked out of reality for a minute, Gilbert went back to courting(annoying the hell out of) Matthew. He was blocked move for move by Francis with disturbing ease. Alfred was already on a mental vacation himself again, his delusions full of hamburgers and Arthur in various stages of undress. The former royal would have been put off if he actually knew what order that was all in.

"So Feliciano, where were you popping off to?", Arthur asked.

"~Ve, to see Grandpa, who lives deep in the woods. I am bringing him pasta and wine from the village.", Feliciano said cheerfully as he showed him the contents of the wicker basket.

"Oh heavens, is he infirm?", Arthur inquired to be met with a blank stare.

"No, he is Italian too.", Feliciano told him in miffed tones. He nuzzled his cheek with the short circuited German's, kissing it lightly.

"…..Okay…But is that safe?", Arthur desperately tried to keep his meager patience in place. He was a little concerned after all. The Italian really didn't look capable enough to defend himself physically…..or mentally for that matter.

"~Ve, no. There is a big bad wolf out here somewhere.", Feliciano laughed, seeming more intent on playing with Ludwig's platinum hair, trying to tease it out of its gelled perfection. Gilbert was beginning to wonder if his younger brother's brain had melted.

"And they still sent you out?", Arthur continued wearily.

"Si. Why?", Feliciano blinked back perplexed.

"Never you mind dear. Nothing at all.", Arthur faked a smile before turning away to mutter scowling, "Bloody daft idiot."

Ludwig managed to plug himself back into the present. "We will escort you to your grandfather's then and protect you from the wolf.", Ludwig stated.

"What? For free?!", Arthur asked surprised.

"Shut up.", Gilbert growled under his breath. He needed this damn it. If they could just convince this flaky kid to come with them…and give Alfred and Arthur some quality time(aka tie them up if need be), then he could get some where with a certain Canadian.

"Hon hon hon.", Francis chuckled evilly, observing as the wheels turned in Gilbert's head who glared back in dismay at the amphibian.

"Scheiße! He had totally forgotten about the frog. Why was life so unfair to someone so awesome!?

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While the Prussian gloomily despaired about his lot in life, the company moved deeper and deeper into the woods. The trees grew thick and dense here, their high canopy barely letting in any light so that the forest was cast into a semi permanent twilight, accented with tendrils of random mist. They traveled an old path, pot marked with gnarled roots and patches of wild mushrooms.

"D-Do you think a ghost lives here?", Alfred stammered, clutching at his reigns tightly. Matthew was about to reassure his twitchy twin when Arthur piped up.

"Of course there is git.", he said, waving politely at some thin air nearby.

"Oh Maple…", Matthew sighed, knowing there would be no stopping Alfred now. The German brothers steadfastly ignored the entire situation have seen the results of it a few too many times before as they urged their horses far away from the now trembling American. No one understood how Alfred could happily fight trolls, goblins, giants, and whatever else life threw their way but hint to even the barest mention of a ghost and he was as useless as nipples on a man. Arthur was finding that out right now, having been the closest to Alfred who was now inexplicably on his horse with him crushing Arthur to death as he wept pathetically.

"Can't….breathe…", Arthur gasped, smacking Alfred with his only free limb. Need for air made Arthur desperate as he reached up to yank hard on the American's ahoge. Just as before, the effect was instant…and interesting.

Alfred's grip loosened considerably as he went limp(well….most of him anyway).

"Oh Arthur…", Alfred moaned hoarsely, wording his name like a reverent prayer as he rubbed himself up against the Englishman turned tomato. As Arthur defended his maidenhood("OI!" Angry Iggy face is shot at author who shrugs back), Gilbert eyed the floating curl that bobbed so tantalizingly off of Matthew's forehead. They were twins….so would it have the same effect? Unfortunately, Gilbert noticed that Francis seem to be thinking the same thing as well, the two glaring at each other, red vs. blue. Like gun slingers, they stared each other down, waiting for the other to make the first move. Matthew continued to stare off into space, unaware that his vital regions were in danger. Kumajirou just yawned and went back to sleep. He really didn't give a shit. Gilbert's hand shot out first only to be beaten by Francis' tongue that caught the curl like a fly to hang off from it.

"Ohhhh, awwwwww…", Matthew panted, arching his back as his lavender eyes clouded over with lust. Gilbert's mouth ran bone dry. He could make this work.

"What the hell are you all doing?! Cease and desist this instant!", Ludwig snapped, doubling back to find half of his team with raging hardons and the other half unwilling or unwanted to do anything about them. After handing out various smack downs, he separated various party members, leaving them all a little embarrassed and a lot unfulfilled.

"This is ridiculous! Hair is not an erogenous zone! See!", Ludwig lectured, demonstrating on his passenger's own side curl. The Italian squeaked in surprise before bodily melting against the German.

"~Veeeeeeeeee…", he sighed breathily, leaning up suddenly to kiss Ludwig openmouthed, sloppy and sweet as he hungrily mapped out the German's orifice with his tongue.

Ludwig promptly fell off of his horse.

Gilbert face palmed, feeling abruptly depressed that he would never taste the maple sweetness that is Canadian. "Mein Gott! What have I done to deserve this?! Have I not been awesome!?

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The travelers rode up on a little cottage, humble in bearing, tucked deeply into the surrounding woods. They were greeted warmly by a tall darkly tanned man with brown eyes and hair with two odd curls springing from it. Dressed plainly in simple garb resembling a toga of all things, the man was widely muscular and very fit though covered in numerous scars.

"Grandpa!", Feliciano waved happily.

"Grandpa?", the other wondered. The man didn't look past his mid-thirties.

"My cute little Feliciano!", the old warrior waved back just as cheerfully in total family resemblance.

"Hello idiots.", said another voice from behind them, though this one was strangely familiar at least to the Germans.

"Vati?!", Gilbert yelped while Ludwig just stated wide eyed and slack jawed at the tall, long haired blonde that looked like he could have been Ludwig's twin or at the very least older brother in old leather armor and green cloak.

"What are you doing here? Last time we heard anything about you, you were heading into Austria to check out some gingerbread house or baked food structure anomaly.", Ludwig asked finding his voice at last. Vati, more commonly known by professional hunters everywhere as Germania just shrugged in answer, motioning the group into the house.

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Once inside Germania explained. "About that….I never got around to it.", he admitted.

"Poor man ran into a bridge troll.", Rome supplied, passing out wine and beer while Feliciano served pasta with a rich red sauce piled high with meatballs and fresh bread. More pasta dishes were served with the main pasta course. Arthur already felt bloated looking at it all. Much to most everyone's delight, they found it delicious considering their last home cooked meal had been English and rather inedible(unless you were Alfred).

"~Ve, he looked so bad. We thought he was going to die.", Feliciano told them, "But he didn't and now he lives here with me and Grandpa.". The Germans digested this information along with their meal.

"Kesesesesese! You couldn't hack it against some pussy ass bridge troll. Finally getting too old, Vati?", Gilbert cackled for a minute before he was sent back on his ass by the original German boot of shut the hell up.

"Hardly and stop calling me that ridiculous name. It wasn't cute when you were little and it isn't cute now.", Germania said coldly, grinding his heel into the back of Gilbert's head.

"How did you escape?", Ludwig asked, taking out his journal. If this bridge troll had managed to take out their formidable grandfather then any information could be valuable. Germania looked vaguely embarrassed, coughing awkwardly to clear his throat.

"I didn't.", he admitted finally, "They did." He pointed to the grinning Italians. The group gawked in disbelief, unsure of the truthfulness of the statement. The only threat Feliciano and Rome seemed to be was to a bowl of pasta.

"Ok…..Mr. Rome….How did you defeat the bridge troll?", Ludwig hesitantly asked. Rome grinned back at him.

"You know…that thing…..then…uh…that happened….the usual way.", Rome answered vaguely, Feliciano nodding along to his nonsense. Ludwig looked over at Germania who shrugged. That was the most he ever got out of them himself.

"So you owe him a life debt….", Ludwig sighed, flipping his book shut. He could respect that, though the men he owed it two were very odd.

"So boys, are you in the same business as Germania?", Rome asked curiously, eyeing the ragtag group. Alfred was currently on his third helping, one of them having been mostly Arthur's first. Gilbert was still situated on the floor under Germania's heel, the elder German having forgotten about him it seemed. Ludwig tried to focus on his bread and beer instead of staring at Feliciano who was trying to press another helping of pasta on him. Francis sat happily in a glass of red wine, trying to drink it through osmosis.

Rome had been sure there had been another person with them in the room though. Matthew sighed, recognizing the 'look' instantly as he helped himself to more pasta. He was glad that the food was good at least, though the conversation was dull. Shrugging, Rome turned his attention back to Ludwig.

"Do grandpa a favor then. I seem to have lost my other grandson.", he said a little too cheerfully for the context of the sentence.

"What!? Don't say something like that so casually! How did you lose him!?", Ludwig yelled, slamming his palms on the table.

"It happens.", Rome shrugged. Ludwig glared back at him as he worried for Feliciano's own safety. Between the two of them, he was surprised they had survived this long.

"Ja, we will go look for him then. Do you know his last whereabouts?", Ludwig grumbled.

"He was visiting a family friend in Spain and never returned.", Rome recalled.

"Si, though he may have been kidnapped again by that strange masked man from Turkey.", Feliciano added.

"So let me get this straight…..", Arthur interjected, "You sent your grandson out, who had already been kidnapped before, on a long journey across several different countries.".

"Si. Why?"

"No reason.", Arthur faked a polite smile, as he muttered "Bloody daft idiots." under his breathe.

"He could be anywhere then. We will keep an eye out for him in our travels.", Ludwig grimaced. This whole thing was too disorganized for his liking.

"Take that one with you.", Germania said, gesturing to Feliciano who clapped his hands together excitedly.

"~Veeee! A trip! A trip! A trip! I will go change!", he squealed running off in his exhilaration, without even knowing where he was going to.

"Oh hell no!", Gilbert stated before anyone else much to everyone's surprise. The Prussian fumed as he pushed his grandfather's boot off of his head. Just what he needed, another obstacle in his road to claim maple bliss. He had planned on just leaving Ludwig here, with the excuse of looking after their Vati(but the old bastard seemed just fine and more than willing and able to kick his ass). Despite all his similarities with Ludwig, Germania had a perv streak wider that Gilbert could ever hope to be. The Prussian knew instantly why he was ordering the younger Italian's accompaniment with them.

"You're taking him and that is final.", Germania growled, his ice blue eyes gleaming eerily. They were met with scarlet orbs evenly as Gilbert pressed their foreheads together in challenge, ignoring the height difference.

"Don't dump your problem on me Vati!", Gilbert growled softly, canines flashing.

"You ungrateful little shit, your brother and I, especially your brother, need to get laid. This is going to happen. Deal with it.", Germania stated firmly.

"Last time I checked, old man. Ludwig was the leader and you taught us to respect the chain of command so suck on that.", Gilbert grinned in victory.

"I promise to take good care of your granddaughter.", Ludwig said stiffly to Rome with growing awkwardness, totally ignoring the angry sound of the sexually denied born awesome but unlucky. Germania's neck whipped around to look at his youngest upon hearing 'granddaughter' though. He shot a look at the bitter Prussian.

"Ja….I know…and then there is that.", Gilbert sighed. Rome just looked confused.

"We don't have a horse for the 'baggage'.", Gilbert grumbled, grasping at straws like a drowning man.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just give you one of mine.", Rome grinned, the baggage reference and sarcastic tone flying well over his head.

"Wonderful. The little butt nugget is probably just going to ride with West anyway.", Gilbert sighed in defeat. Ludwig stammered out something unintelligible, turning bright red as he thought of the little Italian pressed up against his body again.

"Then again…..I don't think it is wise to bring such a delicate girl on our journeys.", Ludwig amended, trying to stay strong. He had to present a firm front as a leader. Germania glared as Gilbert perked up in growing hope.

"Feliciano come here.", Germania yelled. Feliciano walked back into the room singing to himself…naked. Ludwig stared at him in almost unchecked horror.

"~Ve, Yes?", Feliciano asked confused, watching Ludwig short circuit again in sudden realizations.

"Nothing. Just proving a point. Go put some clothes on and pack something other that pasta.", Germania told him, throwing a smirk at Gilbert who returned it with a withering look.

"Go help him or he'll won't bring anything useful.", Germania told Ludwig, shoving him in the Italian's vague direction in the hopes that they could help each other.

"Don't you think that was a little…blunt?", Arthur mused.

"He'll get over it.", Germania shrugged.

And he did…..

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While packing and various other activities went on upstairs, Gilbert sulked darkly as other things came into the light.

"Wolf? What are you talking about? There are no wolves around here.", Germania scoffed at Arthur's question.

"That may be, but Feliciano seems convinced there is , and I quote, a Big Bad Wolf in the forest.", Arthur countered snippily. The pair were distracted when Rome suddenly burst out laughing.

"Hahaha….about that boys…..",Rome chuckled. Germania glared back at him coldly.

"This is your fault isn't it.", the tall blonde stated flatly, not bothering to make it a question.

"You see…..Big Bad Wolf….it's more of an endearment…if you catch my meaning….My sweet Feliciano, he is so innocent.", Rome explained.

"Ja, he sounds it.", Gilbert muttered darkly, trying to ignore the rhythm of the night and the fact he wasn't getting any.

Life was so unfair to the awesome


	5. Chapter 5

Deep in a dark wood lay a narrow trail like a faded scar across the very heart of the forest. Upon it walked two small children. The tiny tots were near identical visions of purity and innocence dressed in snow white gowns, their golden hair brushed to a satin shine. The sweet faced cherubs walked side by side, their chubby wee hands linked through the handle of a wicker basket, the longer haired of the two occasionally dropping breadcrumbs or at least making an attempt to. The scones didn't really break apart having the fluffy consistency of concrete. Any attempts were eventually given up, the rocks posing as baked goods tossed carelessly over shoulder. The shorter haired twin plopped down in the middle of the path, the very picture of angelic woe, to pout up at his heavenly counterpart.

"This shit sucks a fat hairy nut."

"At least you don't have to wear a dress.", Matthew grumbled, the only real difference between them was the addition of more scarlet bows to his apparel and person.

"Dude, I hate to break it to you but we both are. No pants equals dress.", Alfred grumped, cursing Arthur's fashion sense(which was admittedly over millennia old) as he lifted up his hem to show off his total lack of pants.

"Well at least you don't have bows in your hair.", Matthew complained, plopping his butt down besides his brother's. The hated satin ribbons had been pressed upon him by Francis and Gilbert. Arthur had caved after seeing the adorable results.

"Not my fault the others decided to make you the girl. Cut your hair hippie.", Alfred shrugged, helping himself to the scones.

"Hoser. And quit eating those!", Matthew snapped, slapping the basket lid shut.

"Why? There's plenty left.", Alfred whined, nomming on his procured scone.

"Because I've never seen a crow throw up before until now and they are supposed to eat dead things.", Matthew said worriedly, "Plus we are supposed to be leaving a trail behind us until we run out."

"No worries there. Those scones aren't moving for shit.", Alfred shrugged, "And I'm hungry now."

"No! Shut up and focus. That gingerbread house is supposed to be around here somewhere.", Matthew ordered, "Arthur said it had a displacement spell on it."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, and it is only supposed to appear to kids lost and hungry in the woods. Whatever.", Alfred sighed. Arthur had gone over that part a lot after he had changed them into little kids. It had been a toss up between the German brothers and the North American twins on who was going as children for this mission. Alfred still thought that the coin toss was rigged(and it had been. Gilbert and Arthur both had been in on it for their own personal reasons).

"That….is a really good point actually.", Matthew said thoughtfully. He jumped up excitedly, basket in hand "Alfred! Lead the way!"

Alfred blinked up at him owlishly, confused by the sudden demand. "Huh?…..But I never get to lead….especially after that swamp incident which was so totally not my fault!" Within the group, Alfred's lack of direction was almost as famous as his inability to read the atmosphere.

"Just shut up and do it.", Matthew snapped, pulling him up to shove Alfred ahead of him. The American's misdirection was truly something amazing as they became lost within mere minutes. Matthew wasn't even sure how it happened. He kept his eyes open for the next part, getting his opportunity in the form of a river. Happily, Matthew threw the basket of scones into it.

"NOOOOOO!WHY?!", Alfred sobbed, falling dramatically to his knees to clutch strained fingers at the sky. Matthew rolled his eyes at the theatrics as he prayed he didn't kill too many fish or throw the entire ecosystem out of the balance. Alfred cried piteously by the water's edge, glaring at his brother. Matthew sat down patiently on the bank with him and waited. It really shouldn't take too long for his twin's appetite to kick in.

"So….What's going on with you and Gilbo?", Alfred asked, flooring his twin. The American wasn't known for being particularly observant.

"What are you talking aboot?", Matthew recovered, giving his brother a hard look in the hopes he would just drop it, which was a futile hope in light of who he was talking to.

"C'mon Mattie…..It's even clear to me that he wants to bone you.", Alfred said offhand, throwing pebbles into the river after the scones. The fish didn't appreciate either projectiles, promising fishy vengeance on those who had befouled their waters, with much shaking of fins and cursing of bubbles. Matthew curled up to rest his head and hands on his knees comfortablely, blissfully unaware of the aquatic inhabitants' anger. He found himself greatly missing his beloved bear, ole whatever his name is…..Kumamama….KumaSutra?

"I know he is…..interested in me. It's just….", Matthew trailed off.

"It's just what? You could do worse, ya know.", Alfred offered his own personal insight.

"Gee thanks Al. An insane, self proclaimed Prussian who talks constantly about his junk and who's best friend is a baby chick.", Matthew grumbled.

"Hypocrite. Your's is a polar bear cub. So what's the problem? Don't think you will top?", Alfred asked with all his normal amount of tact.

"What!? Arrgh Al! No! I don't want to be with someone who isn't going to take it seriously.", Matthew huffed angrily. Alfred seemed to swish that bit of info around in his head for a moment.

"How do you know he won't? Have you ever talked to him about it?", Alfred said surprisingly thoughtful. Matthew blinked in surprise. He was supposed to be the intuitive rational one here.

"Well…..no.", he admitted sheepishly.

"Well there ya go! You have to at least ask him. Gilbo ain't the brightest crayon if ya get my drift.", Alfred said cheerfully.

***Somewhere, an albino Prussian sneezed. "Someone is speaking of my awesome!"

"Ja, ja, I'm sure they are.", Ludwig rolled his eyes.***

Matthew just stared back at his twin, weighing the sheer amount of irony from that statement in his head.

"True, but it doesn't help he doesn't shut up long enough to do so or stop from using cheesy lines on me.", Matthew sighed, "Plus he keeps talking about claiming vital regions, whatever the hell that means."

"Damn dude, what do you have against the fabled five meters?", Alfred asked curiously to be met with a pained look.

"You mean besides the fact he calls it that?", Matthew countered.

"Every guy names his junk. Mine's Florida.", Alfred shrugged.

"I so didn't need to know that.", Matthew face palmed.

"What do you call yours?", Alfred grinning, waggling his eyebrows.

"That's over sharing.", Matthew glared, "And don't do that. It looks ridiculous."

"C'mon! I told you mine! Do it!", Alfred whined, throwing his arms around to twin to bear hug him into submission.

"…Ontario….", Matthew admitted, caving only because he knew Alfred would not let it go or would bring it up again in public. Best to just get it out of the way now.

"But if you ever tell…..", Matthew started, realizing his words were falling on deaf ears. Alfred stood at full attention, sniffing at the air.

"I smell food!", Alfred yelled, drool already pooling at the corners of his mouth.

"Aboot time.", Matthew sighed as he tied a red ribbon to each other at their pinkies. He didn't want to risk losing Alfred in the woods and if worse came to worse, he could survive without his littlest finger. Alfred proved his point by taking off after that scent like a hound, practically dragging his brother behind him in his food frenzy.

They exited the woods quite suddenly to find themselves in a picturesque glen full of bright sunshine, colorful wildflowers, and oddly enough a neat little house made entirely of sweets. Alfred stared at it wide eyed, his crystal blue orbs tearing up at the very sight of it.

"It's…so…..beautiful…", Alfred choked out emotionally, his chubby little hands clasped together in an almost reverent fervor toward his personal promised land. Matthew mentally gagged at the amount of sugar that stood before them and wondered how long it took to make it and why anyone would bother to even make candied lawn gnomes in the first place.

His mental inquiries were cut short as Alfred got over his stupefied awe to rush forward, attaching himself face first to the frosted side of the house.

"Alfred! What in Maple are you doing? Stop that!", Matthew yelled, attempting to disengage himself from his twin as he fumbled with the ribbon. The knot was traitorously tight though, damn his own efficiency .

"What's it look like!? Free eats!", Alfred managed to say around a mouthful of tasty wall.

"Al this is someone's house! Probably the witch we are looking for. Let's not piss her off by damaging her private property.", Matthew hissed, trying futilely to reason with a very busy Alfred as he dedicated himself to demolishing an entire corner in record time.

"I don't know what you are bitching about. The accent borders and foundation are made of maple cookies.", Alfred masticated. Matthew blinked in surprise down at his grinning twin, abandoning the ribbon knot in favor of doing a double take on the house. Matthew parked his bottom next to Alfred's as the pair methodically took out a side of the house. They came to an unspoken agreement that anything maple, shortbread, or butterscotch was solely Matthew's while anything else sour fruit, caramel, or peanut butter were for Alfred. Black licorice was thrown far, far away by both with severe distaste. One of Matthew's best kept secret's was that he could be just a big a pig as Alfred. Anyone around him with pancakes or poutine could find this out first hand.

"What do you think you are doing!?", screeched a high, heavily accented voice. The twins paused in their gorging to look up at a very well dressed man in a purple frock coat and pristine white cravat, glaring down at them over his silver frames. He had chocolate brown hair with an odd curl in front, and deep purple eyes. His angry mouth was accented by a mole at the corner of it.

"Duh, winning.", Alfred said, shoving more cake into his mouth. Matthew shrugged, double fisting some maple cookie goodness. A man had to have goals in life after all.

The pissed off aristocrat stormed forward to pick the tots up by their collars like kittens. Alfred whined in disappointment and cake denial while Matthew yawned widely, almost totally knocked out in a food coma.

The dark haired man surveyed the damages with an over critical eye, a bit baffled. Usually children got too sick to continue after a few bites of pure sugar. The house was leaning worriedly to the side. The man shook Matthew awake.

"You are now my servant for the time being and are going to fix this.", the man said with a look of aversion. Alfred perked up at that.

"What about me?", he asked, pointing a sticky finger at himself.

"You are going to be dinner.", the man snapped, "I usually wait until they are plump enough to cook, but you will do just fine."

"Ohhhhhhh. So you're the witch, aren't you? We are expecting some chick.", Alfred realized, kicking his brother awake again. The man glared at them both, confused by their lack of fear of him.

"I'm not just any witch. I am Roderich Edelstein, pianist extraordinaire, cake enthusiast, and practitioner of the black arts!", Roderich stated grandly, Here! I will show you my anger over this entire situation!"

The twins found themselves suddenly put down on a piano bench beside Roderich as he started to play an intricate classical piece with great skill on a grand piano.

"How did we not notice this thing?", Matthew whispered confused. Alfred shrugged. He was used to not noticed things so a grand piano sitting next to a cake house in the middle of nowhere was not really a stretch for him. The Austrian finished with flair, turned to the twins.

"So, what do you think?", he sniffed haughtily. The twins looked at each other baffled.

"Your anger is Chopin?", Matthew offered warily.

"Philistines. I have decided to just eat you both since neither one of you can appreciate my music.", Roderich said grumpily.

"Great, that's all we needed to know.", Matthew said, whistling a short high tune. It was answered back by a small yellow bird nearby, Gilbird taking off speedily.

Roderich was starting to get an uneasy feeling, which was confirmed when chubby little hands grabbed at him, throwing him off of the piano bench effortlessly. He landed hard on his back to find himself pinned down by the pair of brothers sitting on top of him.

"You might as well chillax dude! Your ass is being brought to justice.", Alfred told him, striking a dramatic pose as he pointed to the heavens. Matthew hid his face in his hands, wishing he was not so related to an idiot.

"Who….What are you?", Roderich stammered, staring up at the children in bewilderment.

"I'm the hero! And this is my maple sidekick!", Alfred yelled, switching from a dramatic pose to an action pose.

"Ignore him.", Matthew sighed, snapping the ribbon apart so that he could produce the proper papers and their certifications from under his gown, "We are employees of the Grimm Brothers Beilschmidt and Co.. We have a contract and warrant for your arrest for kidnapping, cannibalism, wrongful imprisonment, misuse of magic, and abuse of baked goods."

"And tacky ass decorating. Who the hell gets lawn gnomes anymore anyway besides senile old ladies?", Gilbert said, walking out of the woods to join then, Gilbird circling around his head. He promptly put his foot on top of the Austrian's groin.

"Your vital regions have now been claimed!", Gilbert stated to the world, crossing his arms with an air of authority.

"You're an ass!", Roderich huffed while Matthew shot a look at his brother.

"And that is why it will never happen.", the Canadian rolled his eyes.

"One time Mattie, just one time.", Alfred said quickly, glaring up at Gilbert. "You're blowing it Gilbo.", he hissed through his teeth.

"Stop that! We are professionals.", Ludwig said sharply, smacking Gilbert upside his head before he could respond to the American. He leaned over to slap shackles onto the Austrian.

"~Ve! This is amazing Doitsu! Look at all the sweets!", Feliciano cheered, Alfred joining him to drag the Italian over to the finer( more delicious) points of the sagging structure.

"Do you have any pasta?", Feliciano asked hopefully.

"No we don't!", Roderich said sharply, quite put out with the sudden turn of events. He watched as a polar bear entered the glen as well ridden by a frog of all things, the amphibian elegantly posing in the plush fur with a rose between its webbed fingers.

"Humph. Lacks style.", Francis commented at the house.

"What the hell?!", Roderich yelled, glaring as someone else came tripping out of the woods, a messy haired blonde wiping chalk dust off of his hands.

"The house will say put now. My magic circle will see to that.", Arthur said confidently, smirking at Roderich.

"Arthur!", Alfred called out, abandoning his life's sweet pursuit in favor of his sour Brit. Arthur practically melted from the overwhelming cuteness factor alone, so much so he scooped the little American up despite his stickiness to hug him close.

"You are too endearing. I just may have to keep you like this.", Arthur mused to the other's hurt expression.

"But Arthur….", Alfred pouted, his rosebud bottom lip poking out to tremble. It was like looking at a basket of puppies and kittens playing.

"That's not helping your cause, love.", Arthur cooed. Even when he was upset, Alfred was adorable.

"Arthur please be serious. I don't want to stay this way.", Matthew chided, tugging at the Brit's pant leg. The Canadian squeaked in surprise when he was picked up to be hugged close to Gilbert. Matthew blushed at the contact, usually trying to keep his distance from the albino. The grip on him was strong and so warm though. He looked up shyly at Gilbert, his scarlet gaze so close and unavoidable. Despite his reservations about the Prussian, Matthew had always thought his ruby eyes were beautiful in their gem like clarity and bloody color.

"I don't know. I kinda like you like this. Fun sized.", Gilbert laughed, twirling them around. He certainly liked how the little Canadian clung to him. Alfred spoke up on their behalf again.

"But Arthur, if I stay like this we can't do xxxxx with xxxxx or xxxxxx while xxxxxx or xxxxxx from behind.", Alfred explained graphically. Arthur paled, stiffly setting Alfred down so that he could go have a(or several) hard drinks and a lie down. Some things should never be heard from the mouths of babes. Alfred shrugged, wandering back over to the house.

"I wouldn't mind…", Gilbert started to say, to have Matthew removed from his grasp before the uber harsh German boot of shut the hell up smacked him down.

"NEIN."

"But…"

"NEIN. Don't even think about finishing that sentence. No good can come from it.", Ludwig growled, grinding his heel into the back of his older brother's head. Matthew sighed, walking off to go find Arthur before he became too drunk to perform any more magic.

"Fantastic! I have been arrested by the insane and the incredibly stupid.", Roderich bitched.

"Says the guy who makes houses out of cake and eats little kids.", Gilbert countered.

"Everyone has to have a hobby.", Roderich shrugged.

"Ja, cause that one just screams sane. You're a winner.", Gilbert mocked.

"Arthur, the twins will turn back, ja?", Ludwig ventured, watching Alfred tackled the rest of the house face first with Feliciano cheering him on. Arthur jumped as his mind was pulled out of the gutter.

"Yes, yes eventually….", he mumbled, "Though not soon enough."

"For what?", Ludwig asked perplexed.

Arthur turned a deep shade of puce, muttering to himself as he wandered off again. Ludwig sighed as Alfred started to resemble a bloated cake tick, the American finally falling back as the house collapsed due to lack of support structures.

"I can't believe I got to eat it all.", Alfred sighed happily as Feliciano poked curiously at his swollen tummy. Matthew walked over to stare down at his twin in disgust.

"Pig."

"Jealous."

"Hardly."

"You do know the roof is made of maple cookies right?", Alfred informed his brother, pointing to the top intact remains of the structure. Matthew stared hard at it, visually breaking down. He took a running leap into the roof.

"Pig."

"Shut up hoser."


	6. Chapter 6

Intro narrated in the dulcet tones of a snarky and underpaid voice actress. :D

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Once upon a time in the kingdom of Russia far, far away, there lived three brothers…..well sort of. It was actually a misnomer used to glom them all together cause people were generally too lazy to give a rat's ass but there you go.

Anyway….where was I…..Ah yes, these poor bastards got the raw end of the deal having been sold by their families or outright stolen into servitude by the Russian nobility. And you thought you had problems.

The oldest whose name was Eduard Von Bock was the crown prince of Estonia. He was the smartest of the three, which wasn't saying too much considering the other two. That is like bragging you're the smartest kid on the short yellow bus. He had short blonde hair, dark green eyes shadowed by slim silver frames and an almost permanent indecipherable expression. He loved to study science and alchemy though he really didn't get much of a chance to use either now that he lived in Russia's house.

The second oldest was Toris Lorinaitis, a prince stolen from Lithuania. He was the gentlest out of the trio. He was also the best at cooking and cleaning, so he tended to get the short end of the stick in those areas. He had shoulder length brown hair and soft green eyes. He also had horrible scars on his back from the Russian Prince Ivan for reason he would not speak of but supposively involved his love for another prince from Poland. Basically, shit got real and someone got cursed, but we'll sort all that out later.

The youngest was a Latvian prince by the name of Raivis Galante. He was the most beautiful of the three with pale porcelain skin, sparkling golden curls, and eyes the color of rare pure tanzanite. He was also an insufferable crybaby and a heavy drinker which kind of goes hand in hand if you think about it, but since AA hasn't been invented yet, he's kinda screwed.

The three princes lived…..served time…..in the house of Arlovskaya which belonged to Prince Ivan's insane sisters Natalia, the High Princess of Belarus and Katyusha, High Princess of Ukraine. They had been given as a gift(distraction, sacrificial lambs) to the sisters by their brother to be their maids, cooks, and occasional entertainment. Natalia, for the most part, barely registered their presences(something that they were quite grateful for) for the princess's top two obsessions were very sharp knives and her brother. She had made it her life goal to marry him. So basically, bitch was crazy, ya feel me.

Her sister Katyusha was far more sweet(and normal) though she had the odd quirk of helping out and taking care of the barnyard animals which was a good thing because the three were basically useless in that area. She also had the odd bodily quirk of her gigantic boobs making noises. The animals on the farm were probably the only ones in the world that answered to the food call of boobage. Suck on that Pavlov.

And so they all led a tolerable existence until one day a letter arrived to the house containing a royal decree. This didn't go over well and put the morning into the shitter.

And thus, this train wreck…*cough*….story begins…

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Eduard sighed, shifting slightly to the left to avoid another cup as it was hurled at his head. At this rate, they would soon be out of plate ware. Natalia had not stopped raging since the letter's arrival.

It had stated…

To every eligible maiden in the land, Prince Ivan is throwing a ball to pick a bride. Attendance is mandatory. Absentees will be sent to the Gulag.(Subtle isn't he? That's right ladies come on down and meet Prince Ivan. He's always got a smile on his face and he is bat shit crazy, a winning combination. The lucky lady can look forward to many odd conversations, being terrified, and lots of bone chilling cold weather. Must love sunflowers and vodka.)

"How could he do this to me!?", Natalia screamed at the letter, who really didn't deserve any of the verbal abuse and crinkling at the edges.

"Sister it is not so bad.", Katyusha mumbled, taking cover with Raivis and Toris behind the couch. She was playing Old Maid with Toris at the moment. Natalia tended to rant for a while on such subjects. Raivis was being useless(as per usual curled up into fetal position around a near empty bottle of vodka). Eduard had not managed to take cover in time, stuck in the no-man's-land portion of the living room.

"Not so bad! Are you blind or did your boobs just get in the way again?! He's trying to get married and not to me!", Natalia yelled, balling up the letter(oh, the stationary humanity!) to chuck it at the couch barrier.

"You do know that he is our brother. You can't marry him. That's incest and typically frowned upon.", Katyusha sighed as she got the Old Maid card again. She was only half paying attention to her sister, her own counterpoints long standing ones and generally unregistered ones at that.

"He will marry me, marry me, marry me, marry me, marry me…..", Natalia chanted, going into stalker mode and proving her sister's case in point, "I have to stop him. If he could only see, we would be so perfect as one. I will go to the ball and convince him." Natalia told herself, not really registering the room anymore. Katyusha rolled her eyes, motioning for Toris to deal the cards again.

"This is just disturbing.", Raivis whimpered, pausing long enough to take another pull from his bottle. He had several cushions thrown at his head.

"Shhhhh….Don't draw attention to us.", Toris frantically whispered back. Eduard was currently trying to make believe he was a potted plant, any sudden movements not being in his favor at the moment.

"The guards will not let you into the palace. You have been banned remember?", Katyusha reminded, peeking over the couch. Natalia had been quiet for far too long now and that was never a good sign for anyone's long term health. She found the long haired platinum blonde staring off into space with a strangely thoughtful look on her pretty face.

"Every eligible maiden…..", Natalia murmured contemplatively.

"Family doesn't count no matter how eligible you are.", Katyusha worded, refraining from saying maiden which would have been a stretch. She did have some survival instincts after all.

"We will go in disguise!", Natalia said triumphantly, having only a passing relationship with reality as best. Katyusha sighed shaking her head as she ducked back down to resume her game with Toris.

"You have already tried that before. The guards will be expecting it. They are allowed to wound you now after the whole sunflower incident.", Katyusha yawned, slapping down some more cards. Natalia had tried on numerous occasions such a feat, though the air of insane creeper had always given her away. To Katyusha's surprise though, Natalia just laughed.

"Not if we go as noblewoman with our daughters.", Natalia cackled evilly, eyeing a certain trio. Eduard got a sinking feeling. It was echoed by the other two.

"Strip down boys. We got a ball to go to.", Natalia smirked. Raivis started to cry…..again.

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The end results of the sister's administrations was actually quite surprising…..considering that neither one of them had any talent in the area. Katyusha was quite plain but didn't have to put much effort into it. No one ever really noticed her face. Her chest did all the talking for her, and those girls would not shut up. On the other hand, Natalia was naturally beautiful so she really didn't have to do much at all as long she could keep her creeper vibes low.

With some alterations to clothing, painful and unnecessary waxing(mostly), even more painful tucking, lots of padding, and some makeup, Raivis and Toris turned out to look pretty good in drag, much to their own chagrin and personal horror.

Raivis was practically a pixie dressed in fluffy rose and pink taffeta, a sparkling circlet nestled in his curls with a braided ribbon around his throat.

Toris looked especially elegantly in shades of purple satin, his long hair pinned back gracefully with silver barrettes. A choker graced his neck, stylishly accented with glittering flowers.

Both were advised(i.e.-threatened) to act shy and coy to avoid speaking.

Eduard, however, didn't fit the bill not even if the entire ballroom was drunk off of their asses and half blind. He was simply too lanky in his limbs and his joints pointed at awkward angles due to his slender athletic build. He was also the tallest of the three, his height unchangeable to appear delicate. He was also informed his hair was too short to do anything with, his glasses were too necessary to his vision to leave off, and his looks were too plain. He was also told he didn't have to go, as the sisters viewed the results of their long work.

Eduard peered over his glass frames as if viewing himself blurry would help matters. Nope. Still obviously a dude in a dress surrounded by vast amounts of crazy.

"You are not going like that.", Natalia said firmly as if Eduard had been arguing this entire time with her about it.

"Thank the merciful gods.", Eduard mumbled under his breath, despite the pleading looks of the other two.

"I have decided you can only go when you have cleaned all the rooms, dusted all the drapes, and done all the laundry.", Natalia informed him grandly.

"Yeah, I'll hop right on that.", Eduard grumbled as he quickly rid himself of the nauseous green gown he had been forced into. Seriously, at least they could have put him in a better color.

"With that in mind, I think I will go make us some tea.", Eduard decided, fed up with entire ordeal as he made his escape from the chamber of horrors, where masculinity went to die a perfumed hairless death of embarrassment.

"Eduard you bastard.", Raivis started to cry to have a blade shoved under his nose.

"There is no crying in ballrooms. If you ruin your make up, I'll keep your balls on top of my dresser.", Natalia promised, her left eye twitching. Raivis decided to tremble instead.

"He just left us to escape, lucky bastard.", Toris sighed prettily or at least tried to. The corset he was in was like a vice.

"I can't breathe.", Toris complained timidly.

"Shut up. Breathing makes you look fat.", Natalia snapped.

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Eduard stayed up in his room, well out of everyone's way preferring to be alone anyway. Even when he was sure they had all left, he stayed put with all of his many books and scrolls, lighting candles as the night took back territory from the day with sprays of icy stars lead by a full moon, pale and as bright as brushed silver.

Eduard sighed in relief and respite, enjoying the blissful quiet, seemingly endless in its near perfection….

…Which turned out to be all too brief.

A flash of white light filled the room, robbing Eduard of his vision. The Baltic had not been able to shield his vision in time, his view replaced by hot spots of pulsy blindness. The aroma of rich tea and mist filled the air inexplicably. As his vision cleared, he realized he was not alone anymore. Eduard focused on a strange man floating midair before him wearing a short white outfit with golden sandals and bracers. He had white fluffy wings, a star tipped wand in hand, and the largest eyebrows he had ever seen on a person before.

"Um…..hello?", Eduard said, feeling awkward. What does one say to a nearly naked uninvited guest? The angelic being certainly didn't look particularly threatening though. If anything, he looked just as put out as Eduard felt with furrowed brow and deep scowl.

"Ello. Well, let's get this shite over with. I'll catch me death of cold in this get-up.", Britannia Angel snapped, pulling at his short hem irritable, the back of it riding up again. If he wasn't careful with it, anyone would be able to see his…ahem…..holy tabernacle. Unfortunately, undergarments did not come standard with this outfit.

"Why are you in a dress?", Eduard ventured carefully, having just experienced the unique sensation himself. Personally he would not have gone for shorter but it didn't look like waxing of any kind had been forced upon the angel. After one look at his impressive brow, it probably would have taken off running, wax not one for lost causes and a sore loser to boot.

"It is not a dress you ponce. It's a toga. Educate yourself and try reading some classics.", Britannia Angel growled, glaring daggers at the Estonian, daring him to continue with that line of questioning.

"Ur…..um….Okay, but who are you and why are you wearing a toga? You do realize this is Russia not ancient Greece(Eduard just threw that in cause he was peeved at the earlier comment) and furthermore you are trespassing on private property.", Eduard stated coolly, taking off his glasses to clean them thoroughly as if the visual implement had caused this unfortunate event somehow. To his surprise, the celestial being nodded in agreement with him.

"Fair enough lad. I'm your fairy godm…..parent.", the fairy godparent informed him to a blank stare, "Cor, what now?",

"But you have wings….", Eduard began, gesturing at the feathered appendages.

"Fairies have wings.", the 'fairy' sniffed haughtily.

"Not fluffy feathery ones. And you have a halo. Doesn't that make you by definition an angel?", Eduard corrected, having done another close once over on the fairy…..angel…..whatever.

"Bugger this for game of soldiers! I have a wand, damn it!", Britannia Angel/Fairy Godparent/generally pissed off Englishman with a cold bum snapped, brandishing his implement like a weapon.

"Yes. I see that. Nice star.", Eduard said a bit flatly as he put his glasses back on to view it up close and personal like. He had never been threatened with something so dainty before. He didn't really know how to take it.

"Thank you.", the Fairy Godparent said curtly, "Now let's get you to the ball!"

Eduard blinked back at him in surprise. "But I don't want to go to the ball.", he told him. The angel/fairy frowned deeply down at him, unimpressed with his counter argument.

"Oh fuck all! You're going!", the magical being grumped, planting his small hands squarely on his narrow hips to glare at the confused Estonian.

"But…I don't want to go.", Eduard informed him again, this time very slowly. He was being to wonder if the other was a bit off in the head, but seeing on how he was trying to reason with a guy wearing a toga in winter weather the point seemed kinda moot.

"That's totally besides the point.", the undecided person of magical persuasion huffed.

"Well, what is the point then?!", Eduard asked desperately, trying to be somewhat rational about all this.

"Huh?" was the eloquent answer.

"Of me going…..", Eduard reminded him miserably. He was getting a bad feeling, catching glimpses of himself in the future having stilted, awkward conversations with other dressed up people to the tune of a waltz.

"Oh!….um….Because!", the angel pushed out through clenched teeth. He was going to kill them all for having him put up with all this shite. Never mind the fact he was the only magic user in the group. This was bullshit! Usually when he puffed into a room people just did what he wanted or at the very least, went along with it(mostly because they didn't want the neighbors to see or start assuming things). Eduard stared back at him with a disgruntled look though.

"…."

"…."

"But why?"

"Bloody Hell! It's like the fooking inquisition with you! You are going and that's final! Now sit your narrow arse down and sod off before I turn you into something small, manky, and generally very unpleasant!", the fairy godparent roared, finally having quite enough of this, thank you very much. He was cold, tired, and without tea, damn it.

"I guess I can't argue with that kind of logic then.", Eduard sighed, taking a seat on his bed.

"Bloody brilliant! Let's begin. Bibbity, bobbity, boo!", the miffed angel growled out, flicking his wand in time with the words.

"That's a spell?", Eduard asked incredulously, unimpressed. He had heard better spells at children's parties.

"Belt up.", the god parent snapped to a spray of sparkling glitter and scones(which were a touch burnt). Eduard watched in horror as mice started to climb out of the walls, nooks, and crannies to file like a little army before the angel. Their ranks were joined by birds as well as they flew in from the outside via the window.

"What the hell are you doing?!", Eduard yelled, mentally making a note to pick up rat poison on the next shopping trip….lots of it. The angel gave him an odd look in return.

"Who else do you think is going to make your dress in under an hour?", it asked dubiously as it if was the most natural and obvious thing in the world. Eduard had numerous problems with that sentence, his brain fighting with itself on which topic to address first. He settled for the most obvious one.

"Why a dress? I'm obviously male.", Eduard sighed, gesturing down to himself to highlight certain vital regions(or lack there off) in particular. He wasn't exactly a buff specimen of manliness that reeked of testosterone, but all his attributes were most definitely of the masculine persuasion. Eduard wondered what he had done wrong to have so many people wanting to put him in a dress today. Arthur ignored him though in favor of supervising the animal labor.

"Isn't this animal cruelty?", Eduard ventured his second question when it was obvious the first was not going to be answered. He watched as the mice tried to cut cloth and hem with limited success.

"It will be if someone doesn't stop doing a back stitch when I clearly asked for a line stitch!", angel turned slave driver huffed, tapping the inferior work with his wand to the chagrin of shamefaced rodents, " Bleeding hell, I'll just do it myself."

"Ummm…..would you like us to sing or something?", one of the mice offered, rubbing his little paws together worriedly as the slave driver turned seamstress moved the rodents over.

"….If you must.", the put out angel sighed. Depressed and a little bewildered at the turn his life had taken, Eduard watched as the gown was completed in record time to the off-key singing of mice and birds.

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Meanwhile elsewhere…  
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A guard was currently sweating bullets and considering a change in underwear as he wondered how the hell he had drawn the short straw of life. It had seemed such a easy assignment, a cake walk really. Just check the invites, hold the door open, and try to look presentable. Maybe have a snack in between.

The guard trembled under the purple accented glare of Natalia who had backed the guard into a corner upon general questioning(apparently he should not have said 'How are you doing this evening?'). Toris and Raivis cowered behind a very embarrassed Katyusha as she feebly tried to reason with her sister.

"Every legible maiden…", Natalia started to chant to a low voice.

"Yes ma'am….", the guard whimpered, reminding himself he had a wife, 2.5 kids(it was a horrible birth defect) and a dog(damn he hated that dog) and a white picket fence to live for.

"Every eligible maiden….", Natalia loomed, her fingers digging into the guard's shoulder. Thoughts of what happened to the last member of the palace who had pissed Princess Natalia off presented themselves in vivid detail in the guard's mind, making him seriously reconsider some of his life's choices. He knew quite certainly that he didn't want his remains to all fit in a shoebox though.

"Yes ma'am. Very eligible. Have a lovely evening …..ladies?", the guard squeaked, waving them desperately through. The other three mumbled quick apology and the name of a good therapist in passing as Natalia released him to stalk in after her group. She was obviously a woman on a mission and the guard felt really bad for whoever the hell she was looking for.

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"All right it's done.", Arthur snapped as he came fluttering down the stair. Eduard had finally been coerced(i.e. threatened with magical transformation) and packed off in a couch of the cabbage persuasion(it had been the only thing growing in the garden at the time) to the ball with a warning that the spell would only last until midnight.

"~Ve! You look so pretty!", Feliciano squealed happily, peeking under the toga's short hem playfully. Dresses were kinda his forte after all. He was smacked upside the head with a wand for his troubles.

"Don't get cheeky. I'm only like this cause we had to put on a ridiculous front.", Arthur spat out, glaring at the Germans(well one German and one self proclaimed Prussian).

"A ridiculous front we are getting paid quite well for.", Ludwig reminded him, meticulously studying some handy paperwork to avoid looking at the ridiculous outfit Arthur was in. He was the only magic user in the group something that had turned out to be quite handy but his magic it seemed was quite quirky, his current appearance a case in point. It didn't help any that Gilbert kept grinning like a madman about it and hitting on him to piss Alfred off. Ludwig was just glad he had the foresight to send the twins ahead to the ball to keep an eye on the situation, if Alfred could keep from destroying the buffet long enough not to get thrown out.

"How pathetic! All this to marry off his creepy kid to some geek.", Gilbert sneezed, bored out of his awesome mind. The plan had not really called for any immediate Prussian actions of the awesome nature. The company had been summoned to Russia by the czar who was more famously known by his nickname, General Winter. Apparently, he wanted his wayward son to get married but the prince only seemed interested in some blonde kidnapped prince who worked in his sister's household. The ball was only an excuse for them to meet formally and a way for the prince to seal the deal(one way or another). The Brothers Beilschmidt and Company had been hired on to make sure that this happened without a hitch or Ivan knowing anything about it. Al's bruder(good ole reliable who's-it) had recommended the classic ballroom mysterious meeting scenario. The czar had loved it being a sucker for a dog and pony show anyway. Best of all, it required minimal setup from them with only some minor supervision and if worse came to worse they could get the hell out of the country quickly if it all went pear shaped. They had set up base in Princess Natalia's and Katyusha's kitchen, mainly because they knew they would not be back anytime soon, royalty rarely went down to the kitchen anyway, and it was free eats. Feliciano was currently taking full advantage of its resources and facilities. Ludwig wondered if he was ever going to stop cooking, the little Italian starting as soon as they had arrived. It kept him out of the way though and fully occupied plus the results were quite tasty.

"Your part is over. You can change back.", Ludwig said, noticing that Arthur was still floating and glowing ethereal.

"Yes, I'm working on it.", Arthur sighed, deigning to ascend to floor level to start rifling through cabinets. Ludwig raised a pale eyebrow at him but let it go. It seemed to be a magic thing and he didn't want to get involved. Not so for other people…..ahem…..beings.

"Hon, hon, hon…I see London, I see France…..", Francis started to leer from his very strategic spot on the floor in full view of the British isles, bare beaches and all. Arthur eeped(in a manly way) turned a bright shade of cherry which contrasted nicely with the shade of acid green he was glaring down at the smirking frog.

Francis got his own chance to eep when he was snatched up by an very irate Englishman to be hurled out the back door with a string of very colorful curses. The frog landed safely though into a nearby and very convenient pond. Francis surfaced gracefully to shrug at his new surroundings. He had been in worse. Francis swam over to another frog to smile sexily at it, "So, come here often?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO  
Meanwhile elsewhere…..  
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Prince Ivan leaned over a balcony to look down at the ballroom goers below that twirled in time to graceful string music and nibbled on dainty finger food and sipped at bubbly drinks that circled continuously throughout the room. His father, the czar General Winter, had been insisting that he get married because that is what he was supposed to do. The czar had given his son the option of at least choosing his own bride tonight but for tonight only. Otherwise it was going to be a marriage arrangement with some Chinese royal.

Despite his smiling exterior, being loaded, and having an impressive title, Ivan was not popular. He was a large man in height who tended to loom…that and he was bat shit crazy so that also inclined to put people off of him. Ivan was working on the whole insane thing…kinda… though it didn't help that his own sister seemed to be the only one interested in him. He was crazy bordering on desperate, not stupid. He wasn't going to touch that hot mess with a ten foot pole with someone else's dick attached to it.

A small group caught his dark violet eyes as its members made their way across the dance floor regardless of who was occupying it. The leader of said group was obviously looking for something or someone.

"For the love of vodka, she didn't even bother to disguise herself this time.", Ivan grumbled, waving a steward over to him.

"Vittle man, vhy are my sisters here?", Ivan growled out half heartedly. Katyusha was nice enough, just incredibly dull and needy, but Natalia….Ivan could look forward to spending the rest of the night hiding if this wasn't nipped in the bud quickly.

"Well your highness, from what we could gather from a rather catatonic guard in the break room is that she forced her way in, claiming she had eligible maidens with her.", the steward explained timidly. Ivan sighed despite himself. He had half expected this anyway as he told the steward to send in the special sister task force unit to remove her. Something about the steward's statement bothered him though, his gaze once again alighting upon the small and mostly timid group, especially the two in purple and pink clutching at each other in nervous fear. The smaller of the two trembled greatly unable to cry if he wanted to keep his balls.

Ivan thought that the Latvian prince looked especially rap….*cough*….cute.

"Leave the maidens behind though. I vant to talk to them, da.", Ivan smiled.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO  
Upon arriving…  
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Eduard flung himself bodily out of the couch to kiss the sweet, sweet ground, just glad to be alive and very surprised that they had not crashed. The pigs at the farm had been turned into horses while the horses had been turned into coachmen, which made no sense whatsoever. The valet stared in horror as the driver of the strange vehicle neighed at him. Eduard wished him the best of luck as he walked up the steps, the many, many steps.

Eduard cringed in pain as he ascended delicately up too many stairs for his personally liking. The damn fairy-god parent-angel thingy had made him wear glass slippers(which was a laughable title in itself. Eduard had seen hookers with shorter heels). Out of the entire spectrum of material to choose from and work with, glass had been made the designated footwear matter.

"Wonderful. I am trolling around in the stripper heels of shattery foot death.", Eduard grumbled. He was stopped at the door by a rather upset and twitchy looking guard.

"You can't go in. Only legible maidens.", the guard managed out. He was a man on the edge, but even he could see that Eduard was packing sausage to this party, the Estonian still looking very much like a man in a dress. Admittedly it was a very nice gown made of a lovely shimmering blue and white material that Eduard was sure would look just smashing on someone else other than him. The additions of full length opera gloves and a tiara did not make him feel any prettier or look any more feminine though.

"Good job. Just testing you. I'll just be leaving then.", Eduard said with some amount of relief. He had tried. That fairy whatever couldn't blame him if he was stopped by the guards from entering now could he. As Eduard turned to leave, his arms were neatly caught at the elbows on either side by two tall blondes, obviously twins dressed dashingly to the nines in dark suits. The blue eyed one with the seemingly permanent grin threw a thumbs up to the baffled guard. The lilac eyed twin rolled his eyes at his kin, producing a royal seal to show the poor confused man as they passed him by with Eduard in tow.

"What's going on? Why are you people doing this to me?", Eduard complained bitterly as he was forced down an entryway that led to his immanent doom in the form of a ballroom.

"Sorry dude. Nothing personal. It's just the job.", blue eyes said in a cheerful voice not sounding a bit sorry at all. He snagged an entire tray of snacks from a startled waiter in passing as they entered the large room.

"Give those back!", lavender eyes snapped, glaring at his brother, "He is right though. Sorey aboot all this, but you understand, eh?"

"No! No I don't! I have seen things I can't unsee, have been forced into a dress at wand point, and driven to the brink of madness in a cabbage carriage! What is going on?!", Eduard spat out in frustration, coming to a grinding halt as he dug his heels into the marble to an ear piercing stop.

"OW! Dick move bro! Change the tampon and calm down.", blue eyes whined, letting the Estonian go but mainly so that he could focus on his tray of stolen munchies. His twin let go as well.

"We were hired by the king to find the prince's bride.", lavender eyes outlined, "It was a blonde in his sister's household he loved but was too…..shy(close enough) to show it. This scenario seemed the best option so that is why you are in a dress."

"I hate you all.", Eduard said sincerely, paling under the little bit of news dropped on him like a ton of bricks. He wondered is he had time to shatter one of his heels and slit his wrists. Ivan was in love with him. Hmmmmmmm…suicide or marriage to Ivan…not really a tough call there…

"Oh shit! Here he comes! Act natural dude! Good luck!", blue eyes said excitedly, tipping his head to alert the others of the prince's incoming presence. Eduard watched in dismay as the twins faded into the crowd, disappearing like some many trays of edibles.

Eduard was left glued to his spot like a deer in headlights as Ivan drew closer and closer until…..

…..he passed right by him.

Eduard let out a long breathe he hadn't realized he had been holding, turning in time to see Ivan ask Raivis to dance with him. Trembling, the little Latvian accepted his offer(like he had a snowball's chance in hell), the pair gliding off to less crowded parts of the castle.

Eduard blinked in confusion until clarity gave him a swift kick to the lobe.

"Psssssft. Idiots. Other blonde. Fucking hell.", Eduard sighed in disgust, making his way quickly out of the ballroom without any interference. The guards were currently too preoccupied with Natalia's capture or lack there of. She was situated on top of a banister, wielding blades in both hand with a knife between her teeth. Katyusha was tearfully begging for diplomacy with either side. Toris took the opportunity to leave posthaste as well, to whereabouts unknown.

Eduard passed by the cabbage carriage, the valets still in a conundrum about it. He paused to look at it for a second, debating internally if he should take it back to the house. The pig horse squealed at him making up the Estonian's mind for him.

"Oh hell no.", Eduard told them, taking off his hated shoes to chuck them over his shoulder to shatter on the stairs. Picking up the skirts his voluminous dress, Eduard walked home the heavy rich material provided more that enough covering from the night's cold…..until it all disappeared at midnight.

"WHHHHHHYYYY!?", Eduard snapped, left to continue his journey in only boxers, "Stupid fucking fairy! That makes no sense. Why midnight!? Why at all!? What if I had decided to stay?".

Luckily, he was almost home and this little misadventure was just about over….

…but luck was really not on his side.

Eduard made his way through the garden at the back of the manor, pausing to look down at himself in the mirror like surface of the ornamental pond there. Despite all that had happened today, all the near misses and bullets dodged, he couldn't help but feel a little self conscious as he poked at his own pale cheeks, overanalyzing himself. Sighing, Eduard knelt down by the pond's edge, idly tossing little pebbles into it to ripple his reflection. He fell back when he realized he was being watched by two bright sapphire blue eyes looking up at him at the water's edge. Eduard grunted to himself in disgust when he saw it was just a frog…a frog that was posing provocatively? What the hell?

The frog was lounging on the bank now with a long stemmed red rose in-between his webbed toes, looking seductively up at him.

"Bonjour mon amour.", the frog purred in a husky voice.

Eduard wondered what god he had so grievously offended and what he would have to do to get back into their good graces, cause it seemed the universe hated him right now. Eduard did the sensible thing and promptly tossed the frog back into the pond. He almost made it to the back door when he realized that the frog was following him.

"Can I help you?", Eduard asked warily, just wanting to get this over with.

"La, if only you could for you see I am a cursed prince.", the frog sighed dramatically, gazing soulfully up at the Estonian.

"Cursed with what?", Eduard asked flatly. The frog blinked up in surprise at him with a odd look.

"With being a frog. How are you missing that?", the amphibian asked incredulously, gesturing to himself.

"How do I know you are not a frog cursed with being a prince or with just talking for that matter?", Eduard countered gamingly.

"Hon, hon, hon….fair enough. I am Francis by the way and I see you are as intelligent as you are beautiful.", Francis got back on his game to be met with a frown.

"Well if I go by how this day went, I'm surprised I can manage to breathe without assistance. Goodnight.", Eduard snapped, attempting to get into the house as quickly as possible. Francis sailed through the cracked door with a particularly powerful jump.

"One moment please! I need only a moment.", Francis said quickly.

"No! I am done doing weird things for other people today thank you very much. My limit should have been at that death trap of vegetable transportation.", Eduard growled, storming up the stairs, the frog following wetly behind him. Eduard ignored him even when he was followed into his bedroom. He threw himself onto the mattress to cover his head with a pillow, depressed and ready to sleep the rest of night away.

After a few attempts, it was obvious the frog could not make it up onto the bed, his attempts a sloppy fail each and every time. Despite his own misgivings, Eduard peeked his head out when he heard sniffling. Cursing at himself, Eduard looked over the edge of the bed to see the frog crying quietly to himself. The amphibian looked so pitiful, all hunched up in a dejected little lump of green. Eduard found himself picking the amphibian up.

"Here. Just stay on the other side of the bed.", Eduard huffed, the words not even out of his mouth to find the frog on his bare chest, staring longingly at him.

"What!? What do you want!?", Eduard groaned, giving up to life's demands.

"Nothing much…..just….just a small kiss.", Francis said softly, his eyes wide and pleading. Eduard flopped back, considering it. In light of the day's events, it really wasn't too bad of a request all things considering.

"Really? That's all?", Eduard asked warily.

"Oui. Just a little one.", the frog said hopefully.

Eduard picked up the frog that looked like any old frog with the exception of a tiny gold crown on its head(that he only wore to impress the ladies or whoever) so in other words, not appealing in the slightest.

"What the hell…..This night couldn't get any weirder or worse.", Eduard sighed, pressing his lips lightly to the cool amphibian.

Eduard was surprised to be met with hot lips that pressed back as a slick tongue slid past his surprised lips to taste his core. The heavy weight of a body pressed his own narrow back into the bed as fingers dug through his short golden hair as another started to stroke his lean sides. The hand continued downward to catch at his boxers' edge, tugging it further downward. It caught Eduard's attention though, making him draw back for some much needed air. He shove at the new weight on top of him sending it squalling out on the bed next to him. A tall man who he had never seen before stared back at Eduard, smirking lewdly. He had long silky hair like waves of captured sunshine in each metallic strand. His classically handsome face had high cheekbones, a long straight nose, and sensual lips with just a light stubble gracing his strong chin. His expanses of skin were set in shades of cream with more golden hair dusted over wide shoulders and a muscular frame that tapered down to the graceful lines of his long legs(Eduard realized hazily that 'yes, he was very naked and no he didn't seem to care). The man's eyes though were what really caught Eduard's attention. They were the cerulean blue of oceans, clear and perfect sapphires that burned with a blue fire in their depths.

Eduard curled up, ducking his head when he realized he was being studied back just as openly. Long fingers reached out to catch his sharp chin, the man drawing him close again to place a kiss upon his thin lips, chaste in nature yet wanting, the perfect pairing of saint and sinner all in one touch.

"B-but where did the frog go?", Eduard stammered as the man leaned over him, trapping the Estonian within a cage of his limbs. The blonde man smiled sweetly, pressing his lips to the shell of Eduard's ear to lay kisses on reddening flesh until he got to the lobe, biting teasingly into the soft flesh of it. Eduard gasped in tingly pleasure as the man's lips parted to breathily whisper something.

"Ribbit."


	7. Chapter 7

"Ribbit."

Francis smiled as he leaned over to caress the line of Eduard's thin jaw with the cool tip of his elegant nose. Eduard tried moving back from him to find that the mattress, pillow, and headboard were all working in tandem against him, the treacherous bastards.

"W-what are you d-doing?", Eduard stammered to be answered by a very hurt look from the Frenchman.

"La, I would hope that it was obvious. I am showing my gratitude to my fiancé.", Francis pouted, wondering if his technique had gotten woefully rusty as a frog. He reasoned though that l'amore was l'amore. It had no expiration date upon it.

"Oh…..well….um, that is unnecessary. I don't want someone to do that sort of thing because they feel indebted to.", Eduard said roughly, before his brain was able to process the rest of that sentence, "Wait a minute! Say what?! Fiancé who?! Me?!"

"Oui. Vous. You broke the spell and now reap the romantic rewards you lucky devil you. It is, how you say, destiny painted in the stars themselves.", Francis waxed poetic, "But just to let you know, you are very late about it I think."

As Francis continued to ramble on about various topics, Eduard found himself being far more realistic about it as he looked back at the Frenchman skeptically.

"You can't be serious.", Eduard stated flatly, "That has to be one of the most idiotic things I have ever heard."

Francis sighed in response, relaxing fully on the tense body beneath him. The Estonian was cool to the touch, his long form lean but well defined due to constant work and lack of food.

"You should eat more.", Francis commented, tracing light fingertips over the dips and curves of numerous ribs.

"I should be fed more.", Eduard snorted mirthlessly in vague dismissal as he swatted at the Francis's wandering hands.

"Then I will have to feed you delights you have only dreamed of, mon amour.", Francis murmured into pale skin, brushing his full lips along it.

"Promises, promises. Get off me please. You are very naked and I am very tired.", Eduard sighed, trying to ignore the sweet tingly sensations that Francis's mouth was causing. It was all very pleasant and new while at the same time a little thrilling but the reality of it all was that he would have to get up in a couple of hours to make breakfast for a very bitter(and violent)princess once she was released from the dungeons(or escaped-which ever came first). General Winter certainly didn't want to keep her in the palace and encouraged both, fearing she might lead a coo one day to make incest legal. Transforming princes aside, as handsome as they may be, the hard truth of it all was that Francis would leave and Eduard would rather it was now than later.

Upon thinking this though, Eduard yelped out in surprise as his boxers were pulled down and off of him in one fluid, well practiced movement(it was like riding a bike-you never really forget how), the garment flung far over shoulder.

"How did you get 'strip me' from 'get off of me'?", Eduard yelled, starting to move away to find his hips held in place by firm hands. He stared down at the golden head that ghosted hot breath over his vital regions.

"It is not as hard as one would think. Your mouth said stop, but your eyes begged for more, yes?", Francis explained, "Now hush and let me take care of you."

Francis rubbed soothing circles into the curved tops of jutting hip bones with the pads of his thumbs, Eduard still tried to shift and twist away, not knowing what to expect, his bare shoulders pressed back against the headboard. It wasn't like he had ever gotten a chance like this before with anyone, male or female. He winced as his thighs were parted but it was only so that the Frenchman could settle between them better. His long fingers lingered down the length of trembling things, mapping them out through touch alone as Francis regarded Eduard. The Estonian's breathing was uneven, his pale cheeks dusted with crimson. He looked terrified but refused to look away from Francis, dark forest green eyes half lidded. He bit at his thin lips as fingertips traced up the seam of his balls, following it up to the underside of his prick, already half hard.

"Don't be afraid. I will not hurt you.", Francis murmured. Eduard looked away from him now, uncertain of anything anymore. He was jerked back to reality when the tip of his cock was enveloped in a hot wet heat. Languid fingers ran themselves slowly up and down his shaking thighs while the other found his lower stomach, kneading it with knuckles through coarse golden hair. The combined sensations made Eduard into a melted puddle of goo, as he relaxed back.

Eduard watched with hazy eyes as Francis sucked on his cock, swallowing him whole from time to time with some intense deep throat while at other times switching to light kisses on tender spots. Long fingers splayed out wide to play with tight curls before trailing downward in their activities to wrap around the base and balls, squeezing intermittently.

Eduard clutched at the sheets, sweating as moans slipped past his lips one after the other. Eduard finally caved to the want….the need that had been growing since he laid eyes on the other. Reaching tentative hands over to the bobbing head, his pale fingers found their way through long golden lock, like spun silk it was so soft and plaint. The Frenchman sighed in response, something close to relief, leaning into the timid caresses. Eduard assumed he like it as well as his back arched from the sudden amount of suckage the Frenchman was applying to him now, all illusions of foreplay and teasing gone. Caught in surprise and waves of intense pleasure, Eduard pulled at the shining fibers by accident, his fingers tangled in its depth.

Realizing his folly, the Estonian parted his lips with full intentions of apologizing, only to manage another moan as Francis groaned in ecstasy against his tender parts. It sent the most delicious sensations up Eduard spine and into places much deeper than that.

Gaining some confidence, Eduard pulled again to have lust darkened blue eyes smolder up at him, as Francis began to hum in appreciation. Eduard felt a heavy liquid warmth fill his belly, making it feel tight and achy with molten pleasure. He was so near, just tiptoeing on the edge when Francis decided to grazed his teeth down the sides of his swollen member. Eduard lost all sense of things. He emptied his need into Francis's mouth, clutching tightly at golden locks as if they were an anchor for him and reality. Eduard fell back against the headboard panting out hot, quick breathes, the Frenchman doing the same between his legs. Eduard shuddered in the little after shocks as he was licked clean. When he was done, Francis sat up to start cleansing his hand of its own milky coating. His heated gaze held Eduard's own as he lapped up his pearly release with ease.

"How can you do that?", Eduard managed out, unable to think of anything else safe to say. It was incredibly and inexplicably erotic to him to watch that for some reason. Francis shrugged, moving smoothly over to join him up at the front of the bed.

"After eating nothing but flies and bugs, tasting one's own essence is actually quite refreshing I think, yes?", Francis smirked to the other's blush. Eduard was surprised to find himself gathered up into the other's arms and lain down gently. Francis pressed light kisses to his short locks of dirty blonde hair as he stroked his sides soothingly.

Eduard was struck at how nice it was. It was comforting and sweet, nothing at all like he had experienced before. It made Eduard suddenly nauseous upon realizing that it would have to end.

"Will you be leaving in the morning?", Eduard asked, made himself ask though it hurt.

"Oui, but of course. I have no wish or desire to encounter the lady of sorrow and blades.", Francis yawned, pulling the covers over them.

"Oh…I wish you safe travel then.", Eduard said, feeling miserably and empty. He knew he lacked the words, the finesse to make the other stay with him. He had once heard that there were seven words that one could say to their lover to make them stay with them forever. Eduard would have given anything in that moment to know them all. He didn't care it was pathetic. He didn't even know this man but still needed him desperately. It was ridiculous of course. Ridiculous, useless, impractical, and yet so terribly real.

Eduard found his head tilted upward by gentle but firm knuckles so that his forest green eyes met sapphire blue ones, the Frenchman giving him an odd questioning look.

"But mon amour…..are you not coming with me? Am I to stay here?", Francis asked softly. Eduard blinked back in surprise at the questions.

"Do you wish to stay in this place? I will do so, but there are far more elegant destinations to sojourn to. More warm too.", Francis ventured, hoping that wasn't the case. Russia was far too cold and he was far too pretty so he was relieved when the Estonian emphatically shook his head 'no'.

"Then what is the problem? We shall leave soon enough. First some rest I think though.", Francis stretched before snuggled close to the other. Despite lingering reservations about it all, Eduard found himself letting him, even leaning into a bit.

"But….I can't go back home to my own country. My family basically threw me here to save themselves.", Eduard told him. Francis chuckled at that softly, waving it off.

"Do not trouble yourself about that. They do not deserve your company and I can not go home to my kingdom as well. Gaul has been gone for centuries.", Francis admitted ruefully with a grin.

"Gaul!?…..Centuries?!…But….Just how old are you?!", Eduard spat out in disbelief to a devious answering grin.

"Old enough to know where all of the bodies are buried and where all of the treasure is hidden.", Francis laughed, "I may not be a prince anymore, but I am very, very rich man. Being a talking frog did have some advantages you know. Some silly people are more that happy to bury gold in the oddest places just because a little frog told them to do so."

Eduard stared back at the grinning Frenchman, who leaned forward to press hungry kisses to his surprised parted mouth. Eduard found himself laughing for the first time in a really long time as he pressed excited kisses back.

"Happily ever after goes to the ones who take it.", Francis said slyly. Eduard couldn't have agreed more.

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Meanwhile and just a little beforehand even….while Feliciano was teaching Ludwig various 'cooking' methods, and Alfred was getting his grub on with some English sex scones and discovering a new fetish(god help us all)…a certain Prussian followed a Canadian out into the garden…  
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Matthew could not find Francis anywhere(though the pond would have been the obvious choice here). He sat down on a very convenient bench in frustration, ignoring the loud Prussian who had followed him here. Gilbert hadn't stopped talking since they had left the mansion. Matthew thought it should be looked into the matter that the Prussian had somehow figured out how to forego breathing. It would have been an impressive achievement if Gilbert ever managed to say anything of intelligence. Apparently lack of oxygen really did kill brain cells.

"If you are not going to help look for him. why don't you go help Ludwig or something?", Matthew sighed, able to finally interject something at a rare pause in rambling.

"I don't think he wants any help.", Gilbert snickered, his perverseness sensing a disturbance in the force of nookie. He grinned as he made the Canadian jump, Matthew not realizing how close Gilbert had been to him. Matthew threw him a dirty look over his shoulder getting up to leave again.

"Oh Scheiße! Don't go!", Gilbert said quickly, trying not to sound too desperate and failing miserably as he sat down next to Matthew.

"I have things to do.", Matthew muttered grumpily, looking away from him. He didn't know why he was wasting his time humoring the mad Prussian.

"Ja, like me.", Gilbert said before he could catch himself. He mentally face palmed himself for that life fail as Matthew pulled a face at him, starting to rise again. He found he had an albino latched onto his hand though.

"Bitte…Don't go… I was just teasing you.", Gilbert said in an unfamiliar pleading tone, so unlike his usual signature cocky ones. It was enough to make Matthew pause long enough to look down at him…..but the silverette couldn't bring himself to apologize.

"Mein Gott, don't be so sensitive. Been borrowing Herr Schtick much from West?", Gilbert smirked.

Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Matthew jerked his hand away to fully ignore the other now, choosing instead to follow the garden paths at random, passing mounds of shrubbery at a quick pace. He was so focused on committing himself to a huff that Matthew failed to notice he had entered a maze by accident.

"Oh Maple…", Matthew sighed, dearly hoping that Alfred did not find out about this. He would never be able to live this down…..that or misdirection was genetic. No! He refused to believe that. He could read a map, damn it! He feared no compass!(Seriously though, Alfred thought that a compass was a watch that was constantly broken).

"Do you know where we are Mr. Kumakechee?", Matthew asked his bear hopefully.

"Who are you?", Kumajirou asked with a yawn, having been asleep anyway. Matthew sighed, trying to remember anything and everything he had ever read about mazes. There was a simple trick to solving them….what was it? A noise from behind him made Matthew tense up, the Canadian readying him knife just in case…..until he saw a little yellow bird fly past him to take a dip in an ornamental birdbath.

"Oh for the love of syrup, why are you following me?", Matthew groaned, "I don't suppose you can be useful and know the way out of this maze?

"Huh? We're in a maze?", Gilbert asked surprised, having been so intent on following Matthew and trying to think of something awesome to say he hadn't really noticed.

"Shocking….really. How have you managed?", Matthew sniffed dryly, flopping down to take a seat on a crumbled statue. He needed to focus. Panicking would not help anything and usually led to making stupid mistakes. Eventually it would be noticed that he was missing…..oh wait….Matthew saw the glaring flaw in his plan right away. Well at least Gilbert's presence was actually a benefit then. Ludwig would notice how quiet it was(with a severe lack of pain in the ass), get worried about it(for many, many different reasons) and go looking for his older sibling(usually with bail money). Unfortunately, it also meant he had to stay with Gilbert. Matthew cursed softly at himself and at all the little ironies in life. If worse came to worse and they were trapped here, Matthew guessed he could always eat him.

While Matthew considered cannibalism, Gilbert(aka the walking meal ticket) was thanking his awesome lucky stars(oh if only he knew he was being paired with wine). He was finally and utterly alone with his target with no cockblocks in sight. Ludwig was probably banging Feliciano, even more stupid, into every available surface. With any luck Alfred was doing the same to Arthur. Francis was lost to the Russian elements so whatever there. That just left them. Fuck yeah, life was good.

"What are you grinning about, cervelle d'oiseau?", Matthew asked tiredly. Gilbert had been staring off into space with a huge shit eating grin on his pale face for a long while now… it was starting to creep him the fuck out.

Matthew jumped a little as Gilbert suddenly sat down beside him to leer. Matthew raised an questioning eyebrow up at him in return.

Several things happened at once-Gilbert lunged forward with all intents and purposes of snagging himself a Canadian, said Canadian shifting smoothly up and way to stand, letting for mentioned airborne Prussian to hit the dirt to have the big Canuck boot of 'Stay-the-hell-down-hoser' grind upside the back of his silver head. Gilbird hopped down to peck at his nose, lending moral support.

"What do you think you are doing?", Matthew asked coolly, applying a little more pressure. He liked prompt answers.

"Showing the ground how awesome I am?", Gilbert countered. The boot was removed with a disgusted sigh.

"Just stop already. It's not going to happen.", Matthew told him, dismissing the albino fully now to regard the maze again. Gilbert popped up totally undeterred(can't keep a bad bitch down).

"But why?! I'm awesome! You are almost as awesome as me. It's perfect!", Gilbert whined, presenting his rock solid evidence of personal findings. Needless to say, Matthew was less than impressed with his assessment.

"Wow…..just wow…Where do I even begin? Besides the fact we are total opposites, coworkers, oh and you rival Alfred for 'most annoying' on a constant basis, you mean besides all that? I can't possibly think of a single reason why.", Matthew said flatly, sarcasm fairly oozing off of every word.

"I know, right? It's perfect!", Gilbert grinned. Matthew stared back at him stunned.

"Do you actually listen to anything that I say?", Matthew asked, part of him genuinely curious, "Or does it just rewrite itself in your head? Is it nice there wherever you are in la-la land?".

Matthew stopped his potential rant(one of the Canadian's deadliest weapons) to a strange sensation, a sharp rising and falling of goosebumps. Something was starting to bother him. Kumajirou sensed it as well, the bear's hackles rising as a low growl escaped his snowy muzzle.

"Gilbert! Shut up!", Matthew ordered softly. Of course the Prussian failed to register any of this, as the albino continued on about someone(himself) or something(anything associated with him) being awesome. Matthew's fears were confirmed when a troll suddenly emerged from the dense foliage, the secret guardian of the maze. The brute towered over the pair, reeking of blood and rot, his great gnashing teeth stained copper from his victims. The troll's heavy blunt claws were caked with putrid flesh, the severed heads of other trespassers hanging from his belt(in Russia, when they say stay off the lawn, they fucking mean it)

Matthew gasped, backing away from the horror, the smell coming off of it alone a considerable force unto itself. Gilbert shot it an annoyed look as the troll bellowed a battle cry at them. Matthew blinked…..

….to stare down at a very dead troll, headless as it pumped the last of its life out into the soil.

Matthew's brain caught him up on the last few nanoseconds. Within the microcosms of time, Gilbert had drawn his pair of sword(both of which were named 'Fritz') like liquid quicksilver. He duck dived between the slower troll's legs to emerge out behind it. Nimbly wall running up the shrubbery, Gilbert back flipped onto the troll's wide shoulders to neatly slice off its head with a fluid whirling gesture. Before the head could even hit the ground, the lithe Prussian barrel rolled neatly off of its descending bulk to land gracefully in front of the Canadian. Slinging the blood clean off of his shining blades with a smooth gesture, Gilbert sheathed them again.

"Scheiße that thing stinks! Let's get out of here.", Gilbert said calmly, not missing a beat. Matthew blinked in surprise, remembering vaguely to close his mouth with a click. It was easy to forget sometimes that the albino Prussian was one of the best hunters in all of Europe if not the world, his years of training and experience far exceeding Matthew's own. Even Ludwig begrudgingly acknowledged his older bother's considerably skill(only in certain areas of course).

"Y-you cut off….You killed it…", Matthew stammer out, his brain helping out the best it could with everything. Gilbert gave him a funny look, turning back to study the very dead troll Kumajirou was currently taking a piss on.

"Um…Ja? Oh fuck! It's not one of those hydra things is it?! I thought those fuckers were only in Greece!", Gilbert started to complain, redrawing his swords. He was stopped when Matthew covered his mouth with his hand. Gilbert fought valiantly with himself not to molest it with his tongue, choosing instead to enjoy Matthew's scent so close to him( and he didn't even have to be a creeper about it).

"No, it is just a troll, but I would like to get out of here. Now.", Matthew told him firmly while he had the Prussian's full attention. Russia apparently like to keep trolls in their garden mazes cause when you think garden, you think trolls. Matthew didn't really feel like finding out what else they kept in them. He jerked his hand way when he felt the tip of a tongue starting to work it(Gilbert lost….to himself)

"Oh that. No problem.", Gilbert shrugged, whistling a high sharp tune. Gilbird shot straight up high in the air to swiftly return to them, fluttering off in an obvious direction. Matthew felt like face palming himself. Why hadn't he thought of that?

"But if you are ever lost in a maze and time isn't a consideration, the easiest way to get out it to follow one wall continuously.", Gilbert told him offhand, unintentionally answering Matthew's earlier question. Matthew followed him silently until they emerged from the maze, the Canadian studying him intently the entire time.

"So where were we…", Gilbert started to be met with an intense lilac gaze, "What?"

"Why do you like me?", Matthew asked in a deep serious tone that brooked no argument, "Can you actually answer that without any of your bullshit to go along with it?"

Gilbert tried to smile at him but the expression fell flat under those intense almost angry eyes of a being who had been ignored a little too often to be fucked with. The silverette ended up shuffling his feet uncomfortably instead.

"I….I'm not so good with….um…..", Giblet muttered, his pale cheeks growing hot and red. He muttered softly in German in broken phrases, finally stopping completely to take a sudden interest in his boots Matthew stared at him in irritation at the unfamiliar sight of an embarrassed Prussian. Realization dawned on Matthew though(c'mon, he's not Al-he can read the atmosphere just fine) as he drew closer to the smoldering albino. He gently reached for fidgeting hands finding them cool to the touch though the palms of them were sweaty. He took them into his own hands to draw the other closer to him. Gilbert looked up in surprise at him with wide crimson eyes. The Canadian had never moved to touch him if it was not work related(i.e. patching him up), usually avoiding it as much as he could.

Matthew was struck as he had been many times before by the garnet color of the albino's eyes, the vivid pure color of them was so alluring to him. The oddly colored irises were framed with long thick lashes, a dark silver color at their base that lightened to snowy white that brushed the tops of the Prussian's pale cheeks. The effect was beautiful against the winter skin.

"Tell me.", Matthew asked again, this time more kindly in his softest voice. He watched albino swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing wildly from it, "In English…or French…my German is still rusty."

Gilbert started to look away to find his head turned back by Matthew. The Canadian was very close to him now. "…..cause you're smart and stuff…always reading….", Gilbert mumbled, flooring Matthew, who had been expecting anything but that really. He managed somehow to stay quiet so that the Prussian could continue, "…..and you make really good pancakes…"

Another surprise. Matthew had had some maple syrup left over from home. He had made the fluffy breakfast food to have with the last of it. Gilbert had eaten them in complete silence(Matthew had mistaken awe for dislike).

As Matthew mulled this all over, Gilbert lapsed back into mumbling his answers in German again but enough had been said. Matthew felt all gooey and warm inside for the small snippet of information he had gleaned, presenting in the most endearing manner. Matthew drew the still blushing silverette into his arms fully, circling their length tightly around a lithe body.

"Tell me more.", Matthew murmured, sealing the lines of their bodies, hip to hip. The Prussian's body was so warm. His natural colors were of snow and winter but his body seemed to burn. Matthew found himself wondering what the rest of him looked like. He found himself openly studying Gilbert's thin lips, so defined and pale with just the barest tingeing of pink in them. Matthew wanted to see what they would look like after they were kissed properly…

…so he did.

A firm hand to the back of a silver head dug long fingers into sparkling white locks to hold the albino's head into place. White teeth caught a slightly parted bottom lip, nibbling at it. The other arm tightened suddenly to encircle a narrow waist, a fanned hand gripping onto the swell of defined hipbones.

Matthew pushed his tongue past unresisting lips to lap at the muscle he found inside of it, touching it though not to linger as he busied himself caressing sides of teeth and hidden ridges. Gilbert's core was tasted thoroughly, Matthew finding it hot and oddly sweet with a fine lingering metallic of copper.

The pair was backed up unconsciously into a high garden wall, propelled by their lust. It was enough though to set them apart a bit, drawing in heated breathe as their air mingled. Matthew leaned back to view his handiwork. The albino's lips were now a very pretty shade of pink, almost red in contrast with his winter features. Matthew was filled with the perverse need to fill that blank canvas of skin that lay beneath just beyond his reach. It was a need similar to finding an entire field of newly fallen pristine snow and wanting to run buck wild through it.

Matthew's fingers found the top buttons of the Prussian's blue coat and cravat in one go, tearing at it as his lips found Gilbert's again. Lips did not linger though on their original target, as they moved downward at a rapid pace to work the line of a clenched jaw taking the full tour towards a milky throat. Matthew nibbled at it to leave behind bruises that blossomed into shades of purple and pinks against the pale. His hands were not idle either as they freed more expanses of flesh, shedding articles of clothing like petals off of a flower until a white scarred torso was laid bare before him. Gilbert shivered a bit in the cold as the invading warmth drew back to view him. The silverette's body was sculpted long and lean with taunt wiry muscles, reflecting his art of warfare. He depended on speed and his body reflected that, built more like a dancer that a bulk fighter. Ridges of numerous scars littered the plains of it, many markers from his encounters with the strange and violent. Matthew claimed each and every one of them as his own, entranced with the pale nipples especially he found there. He abused them to new types of hardness with his tongue and teeth.

Gilbert groaned and gasped in pleasure from it all, his knees starting to buckle under the attention. He was jerked back up with an iron grip around his waist. Fingers caught the buckle of the Prussian's pants, pushing them downward and off with some willing help from the invaded. Gilbert swore loudly as his erection hit cold open air, precum tingling from it. Warm hands palmed it to more answering groans. Gilbert found his head jerked back as fingers were shoved into his mouth. He was forced to suck on them or else choke. After being thoroughly coated, they were withdrawn with an audible pop. The slick digits were soon pressed to a puckered entrance as one of his legs was lifted and braced around the other's waist.

"Gott, I know I'm awesome but….", Gilbert gasped, wincing at the sudden intrusion that wiggled around broadly.

"You didn't think you were going to top did you cervelle d'oiseau?", Matthew smirked, his whispery tones coming out so soft but so seductive like a shadowy kiss.

"You wouldn't give me the time of day before and now you're going to fuck me?", Gilbert moaned hoarsely, three fingers deep in him now, swirling wide. Matthew was being a devious bastard and carefully avoiding the spot Gilbert wanted most touched.

"You are on a trail basis, hoser.", Matthew told him, pressing another biting kiss to the side of his neck, marking it as his.

"You fuck on a trail basis?", Gilbert growled, "Scheiße, how many fingers do you plan on putting into me? Fuck me, are you looking for gold or something?"

"I got to check out the goods before I buy.", Matthew said a touch smugly, "and to answer your question, four. I plan on fucking you into this wall.".

Gilbert started to laugh his distinct snicker when he was cut off. He found himself picked up bodily, arms going under his knees to hoist him up as he was aligned with something very hot as it brushed up against his entrance. Gilbert barely had time to get a grip on wide shoulders, biting into one of them as he was plunged down, Ontario filling him completely(oh Canada!). As Gilbert adjusted, Matthew braced them against the wall to start pounding into the silverette. A fast pace was set marked with shallow pants, harsh grunts, and the wet slapping of skin.

Gilbert's head flew back to thump against the wall, his prostate finally hit dead on, Matthew feeling generously enough now to start abusing it mercilessly. Gilbert was being driven into the masonry with ever stroke and he couldn't be happier about it. German flew freely from his lips, sometimes as curses, sometimes as encouragement, but all of it was loud and heated, always wanting more. It mingled smoothly with the French that seemed to more flow from Matthew's own mouth, as the pair sought out completion.

Gilbert screamed shallowly, something unintelligible as he was filled hotly with milky fluid that seeped down his trembling thighs. He was set down jarringly, hands flying to his neglected erection to have it pumped in harsh strokes. Gilbert leaned over Matthew trembling as he came, covering the hands of his newly minted lover.

"So…did I pass?", Gilbert finally managed out, clutching weakly at Matthew who smiled playfully back at him.

"I get to use you for thirty days before I decide."

"Awesome."

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Alfred and Matthew returned to the mansion well before Eduard having taken more normal means of transportation to discover an over enthusiastic Italian cooking up a storm in their stolen kitchen. He was accompanied by an overzealous cleaning German and very bored sneezing Prussian, who was trying out cheesy lines on his chick Gilbird(who wasn't the best judge of these sorts of things. He was just a baby bird after all). Ludwig laid off of his scrubbing to interrogate the twins.

"Report! You have eight minutes and not a second longer!", Ludwig snapped, the NA brothers straightening their spines under the commandeering tone. Alfred even threw off a mock salute before launching into their news or lack there of.

"Well…about that…..", he meandered, choosing to study a very interesting spot on the ceiling. Ludwig got a bad feeling….the type of feeling were they didn't get paid.

"No stalling!", Ludwig ordered. Alfred looked over to his brother for some support(i.e. scapegoat).

"We got the wrong blonde.", Matthew supplied helpfully.

"What?! But what about all of our data and reconnaissance?!", Ludwig griped in disbelief, "The other blonde? The crybaby?"

"Yup.", Alfred stated eloquently as he helped himself to the mounds of pasta and sauce that just kept growing at an alarming rate. Ludwig was too busy trying to think how they could spin this in their favor with the czar to care. It wasn't like General Winter had been helpful with the matter or even knew which of the Baltic princes his son had been interested in anyway. The Latvian would not have been his own first choice….or second….or even third for that matter. Ludwig would had rather just packed in him up in a box and ship him back to his own country.

"He really is insane….", Ludwig said absently, his thoughts turning to the Russian prince.

"In the membrane! Kesesesese!", Gilbert added, getting a fist bump from his chick. Matthew rolled his eyes, looking around.

"Where's Francis?", Matthew asked worriedly, the amphibian not soaking his usual glass of wine.

"Oh, he decided to take a visual tour of the English back roads and got tossed outside for his troubles.", Gilbert smirked.

"Oh Maple.", Matthew muttered, leaving to traverse the gardens out back in searched of the frog prince. He was followed by a grinning Prussian. Ludwig and Alfred exchanged a rare look, the German rolling his eyes while the American just shrugged. Feliciano looked up in question having missed the entire thing amidst his carb bliss.

"So where is my moist little island of love?", Alfred cooed, looking around as if Arthur was stashed in some corner.

"Last I saw, he was going upstairs with a couple bottles of vodka.", Ludwig grumbled. He was usually against drinking while on the job but Arthur had insisted it was the only way to change himself back. Upon realizing the Englishman was very serious and in light of his total lack of underwear, Ludwig had warily conceded. Alfred's eyebrows shot up as a slow wolfish grin grew upon his face. He immediately abandoned his pasta in search of more English style fare to dine upon. Feliciano sadly shook his head at the waste in pasta, taking it upon himself to finish it. He didn't think the American would mind. Ludwig wondered how the hell(and not for the first time) the Italian stayed so slim on his all carb diet.

"~Ve, what is it Doitsu?", Feliciano asked curiously. Ludwig realized belated he had been staring at him this whole time.

"It's nothing.", Ludwig blushed, turning quickly away. Slender fingers touched his burning cheek, the German moving back in surprise at the intimate closeness to have his cool lips met with tangy sauce flavored ones. They were soft and plush though, moving cleverly to part his lips so that a velvety little tongue could dip into their depths. He could feel Feliciano straining on wobbly tip toe, leaning bodily up against the German to cover the height distance between them. Ludwig more than accommodated him by easily picking up the small Italian to set him on the counter, the seating jerking them apart to draw in ragged breathes.

Ludwig could feel his iron control he was so proud of maintaining just melting away like ice on a hot day as he gazed hungrily down at the flushed Italian. Feliciano consumed more that pasta. He ate bits of the German's self control as easily as candy. It drove Ludwig crazy…..and he love it. The petite Italian touched something primal within him. Ludwig could not quite put his finger on it. As he stared down at Feliciano trying to decipher its source, his ice blue eyes were met warmly by golden ones, like pools of sun warmed honey accented with light gold toned skin and coppery hair that framed his face so delicately. Those sinful lips were just barely parted, a small pink tongue darting out occasionally to moisten them. Ludwig felt himself start to go again, his control becoming thread thin. He drew back with shaking hands If he didn't stop now….

Ludwig was frozen into place though with just a few words as Feliciano tilted his pretty head ever so slightly to the side in seeming confusion.

"But Doitsu…..aren't you….hungry?", Feliciano asked in husky tones that could have melted butter. Ludwig could almost audibly hear himself not so much snap as shatter as he lunged forward to pin the Italian to the counter with his much larger mass. Work roughened fingers from long hour of hard labor and sword practice found buttons too awkwardly challenging at the moment as the German resorted to tearing Feliciano's shirt from his slim body to reveal expanses of smooth perfect flesh. Ludwig claimed it without hesitation for his own, marking it with biting kisses as he burned a path from the line of Feliciano's throat down to his chest. The smaller man arched into his touches, crying out in a loud voice unabashedly. Any other time, Ludwig would have begged him to stop, or worried about his brother or companions walking in on them. Today, at this moment, the noise only enflamed him, driving him deeper into his own personal madness as he worked light caramel flesh with tongue and teeth. His fingers found already hard nubs to tweak and caress them to new heights, Feliciano arching off of the hard surface. He panted out vague things in Italian that Ludwig did not understand but loved to hear anyway.

Feliciano's pants suffered the same fate as the shirt, the material torn from the Italian's body, leaving him fully exposed…not that it seemed to bother him. Even in his near feral state of mind, Ludwig had enough sense to prepare the other, grabbing for some cooking oil. It was taken from him though by Feliciano who slathered his own fingers with it.

"Love on me. I'll do this.", Feliciano gasped, pressing his kiss swollen lips to the sweaty pulse point of the German's throat as he pressed two fingers into himself without hesitation. Ludwig choked on air as he watched dry mouthed, struck dumb by it for a moment before descending on his lover in a near frenzy-touching, biting, licking-wherever he could get to. His large hands stayed preoccupied with stroking Feliciano's weeping cock, palming the balls to make the Italian groan and shake with pleasure.

"Touch me more. I'm almost ready for you.", Feliciano moaned hoarsely. Ludwig shook as he drew himself back far enough to watch the other add more fingers into himself, twisting the digits as he scissored them. Ludwig swallowed hard, almost blinded with want as he reached for the odd side curl of Feliciano's fair head. The Italian twisted out of his reach though.

"No. I will come to quick if you do that.", he gasped, plunging into himself deeper to graze nerves that sang with pleasure.

"Perhaps that is best. I will be rough.", Ludwig admitted raggedly, losing himself more and more. Feliciano removed his fingers with a whining sigh to sit up, draping himself over the German.

"So be rough. Brand me. Fuck me.", Feliciano murmured, his tongue flicking out to caress Ludwig's ear with its nimble tip. Ludwig broke with a shatter, grabbing Feliciano off of the counter. As he was turned around, the Italian barely had enough time to brace himself against it when he was entered in one fluid motion to be filled completely. Hard fingers dug deeply into his hips as Ludwig snapped forward with his own, relentless, desperate. Feliciano's legs would have given out with his prostrate was slammed into with such force, unavoidable at this angle. He was caught around the waist as Ludwig leaned over to press them together chest to back. He grabbed hold of a long slender leg to hoist it up, penetrating Feliciano deeper, thrusting into him at a wild pace. Teeth grazed the back of his neck, biting down as a growl rumbled from the German's throat sending tingly chills down Feliciano's spine as he was pounded into relentlessly, Ludwig was in full control as Feliciano gripped onto the hard arms that held him. The Italian turned his head to kiss the German when his curl was caught in between teeth, Ludwig rolling his tongue down the length of it. Feliciano's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he saw stars, crying out as he came, painting the counters in shades of white. He reached new heights in climax as his curl was suddenly jerked inadvertently, Ludwig shuddering from his own bliss, filling the Italian to the brim, so that it seeped down quivering thighs. Feliciano would have happily fallen over if not for Ludwig holding them both up, but just barely. As it was he settled on falling back to seat them on the kitchen floor to recover. Ignoring the mess, Feliciano slid into Ludwig's lap to cuddle with him.

There, embarrassment took out its whacking stick to beat Ludwig over the head with it until it felt like his cheeks would explode from the amount of blood in them as he surveyed the damages. Feliciano just nestled closer to him, pressing light butterfly kisses to sweaty skin occasionally.

"I'm sorry about your clothes.", Ludwig managed out hoarsely. He own, though a little sweaty and stained now, had escaped destruction and even removal for that matter. Feliciano just laughed though, placing a sweet kiss on the surprised German's lips.

"Oh Doitsu, that just means it was good."

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Meanwhile elsewhere…..  
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After some searching, Alfred found Arthur in what looked like one of the many spare bedrooms in the large house, the Englishman's only company a few bottles of vodka. Arthur was trying to chug one of them down with a look of determination and disgust. He really would have preferred rum or brandy but beggars could not be choosers.

"Whatcha doing?", Alfred asked curiously, causing the other to jump in surprise. Arthur was currently still in his angelic form, though his halo was a bit crooked now. He glared acid green back at the American.

"None of your business git.", Arthur growled, slugging back some more of the burning clear liquid. He gagged a bit, wiping the excess from his mouth with the back of the hand.

"It looks like you are trying to get shit faced. Why?", Alfred smiled, taking the bottle of fermented potato away form the irritable Brit.

"Give that back!", Arthur snapped, lunging for the bottle his wings giving his the extra boost he needed to reach for it. He found he was caught mid motion though at the waist to be held close to the amused American.

"I have to! I can't change back until I do something impure. The easiest way is getting lashed.", Arthur said sulkily, pushing back against the firm grip that held him in place so easily and far too well for his own liking. He was in a skimpy toga after all and it wasn't like underwear came standard with this garment….which was something Alfred was discovering right now in fact. Arthur yelped in surprise as callused fingers traced up his bare thigh, curving upward to cup firm ass cheeks. Arthur blushed darkly as Alfred shifted his hold so that he could place hot palms on cool flesh. He started to knead it, parting the mounds to slide long fingers along the crack of it, tracing mischievous circles around a puckered entrance. Arthur gasped, looking at Alfred with wide eyes as blunt fingertips nudged at its gateway. His emerald gaze was met with a lust darkened azure one, the American's lids half mast as a pink tongue languidly moistened full lips. The wandering digits only paused there momentarily though before trailing further on to graze the back of sensitive balls, toying with the velvety flesh it found there.

"W-What are you doing?", Arthur stammered, finding it hard to breathe at the moment as his jewels were being rolled and fondled.

"Doing something impure.", Alfred chuckled, removing his hands slowly as his touch lingered over heating flesh. Arthur found himself suddenly shoved back onto the bed yelping in surprise. Rough honed hands parted soft creamy thighs as Arthur's toga was flipped up to reveal swollen vital regions glittering with precum.

Arthur arched back against the mattress as his member was swallowed whole from tip to base, Alfred deep throating it neatly. The Englishman hissed out something unintelligently, the language lost to him in waves of throbbing ecstasy. His slim fingers dug deeply into locks of golden wheat, his touch finding a particular piece of hair to twist it around in his grip. Alfred came off of him moaning, glaring heatedly down at him.

"You really shouldn't have done that. I was planning to stop after you changed back, "Alfred growled out between sharp pants, "I wanted our first time to be special but you are so damn beautiful like this. I want to see more of it."

Arthur didn't have time to respond as he felt Alfred turn his attention back to his aching need, caressing it with a strange look on his handsome face. His free hand retrieved an item from his pocket. Arthur soon found out what it was as a fine black silk ribbon was tied snugly around the base of his penis.

"What in he bloody hell do you think you are doing?!", Arthur snapped, reaching down only to have his hands caught up into an iron grip high above his head as the America straddled him carefully, mindful of his wings. He struggled against it only briefly, remembering who it was against. Arthur had seen Alfred punt dragons around like a football for fun. His meager resistance would be nothing against this powerhouse. He chose instead to glare up at him captor instead, defiant and proud despite his compromising position at the moment. Alfred smirked down at him, lazily trailing an open palm along the lines of his lean body, touching dips and curves of it at leisure, the toga's shimmering material more outlining that really covering anything really. Arthur quivered under the exploration of his body, soft noises escaping his lips despite himself. The toga was unclasped and gently pulled away to reveal all of him, leaving the angel only in golden sandals and bracers. Alfred ran fanned fingers down the bare chest before him, taking in the lean form framed by snowy white wings hungrily.

"Sweet liberty, you are gorgeous, darlin.", Alfred drawled huskily, internally debating where to begin.

"Don't say just stupid things, git.", Arthur hissed, his pale cheeks painted with a lovely shade of crimson that reached his ears. Alfred just chuckled back in answer though, reaching up to flick the crooked halo back to straightness.

Arthur found himself flipped over onto his belly, Alfred shifting to keep his one-handed grip on the Brit's limbs. He leaned over him until his chest was flush to a winged back, his free hand caressing the feathered appendages. Alfred leaned up far enough to start placing kisses where the feathers merged with skin, his wide tongue darting out to taste the change in textures. Arthur moaned under the tingly sensations, odd but yet so enticing as Alfred stroked his feathers, tugging lightly on essential flight feathers occasionally. The wings twitched and fluttered under the strokes and touches, Arthur squirming from the administrations. Alfred held him steady, leaving off finally to run his fingers down his spine achingly slow until he brushed along the edges of his crack again. Arthur gasped as Alfred started to place wet open mouth kisses along his spine to follow those shallow touches. He could occasionally feel the American grin against him as pale skin was nipped at lightly.

"I'm going to let you go. If you're good, I'll let you come.", Alfred teased sweetly, emphasizing his point with a particularly sharp bite. It was answered with a yelp and some general growling. Arthur's hardon dug painfully into the mattress, getting friction to no good avail.

"Fine. Just get on with it already git.", Arthur growled, his hands released. His ass was cupped again to be spread apart as he was made to lean up on his knees. Arthur grumped into the mattress expecting the usual known intrusion. His fingers dug into the coverlet in shock though as something totally different entered him, hot, soft, and very wet. It slid past his fleshy doors with its own slickness, caressing him intimately. Arthur gasped in shock as he realized Alfred was rimming him, his tongue deep in his ass as fingers slid into him to join it. While rings of muscled were stretched and scissored apart, the muscle delved in deeper to flick at sensitive flesh. It felt absurdly good despite being so foreign. Arthur cried out as his cock gained new levels of hardness he had never known before. He bit down on the coverlet, yelling out into the fabric.

Alfred shushed him gently, stroking his shivering sides as he pulled away to align himself, pushing his head past the pulsing gateway that swallowed his length up greedily. He entered slowly, running gentle hands over Arthur's wings to distract him from any discomfort, only stopping when he was buried to the hilt. Alfred gripped at Arthur's hips, nearly falling forward as Arthur suddenly pressed back up against him made desperate with need. He wanted it hard, fast, and now. Alfred stilled him though with firm hands while making gentle noises of soothing nothings.

"Hhmmmm…..not like this.", Alfred murmured thoughtfully, withdrawing himself fully. Arthur looked at him over his shoulder, enraged.

"What the flying fuck do you think …..", Arthur started only to be bounced when the American flopped down heavily on the bed beside him.

"Ride me darlin. Set the pace you want. I want to see all of you above me.", Alfred grinned up at him. Arthur glared back at him, considering it while wondering if Alfred was just that lazy. He really was getting past the point of caring though, his need begging for release as precum dripped down his member in shiny rivulets.

"You have too many clothes on.", Arthur complained, eyeing the suit Alfred still wore from the ball, the front of this pants the only thing open.

"So undress me.", Alfred laughed, sitting up to shrug out of his coat.

"You cheeky bugger. Making me do all the work.", Arthur griped though he could feel his mouth going dry at the thought. He had never really ever seen the American naked, just bits and pieces here and there while changing. Arthur practically descended on the other, making short work of the garments until they decorated the room rather messily and Alfred was laid bare before him.

The American was all tanned skin over a muscular physique marked with numerous scars from their dangerous profession. Arthur found himself pulled on top of washboard abs so that he had to brace himself up on a toned chest that tapered gracefully downward. Leaning back, Arthur ran his hands over the curved dip of hipbones, Alfred responding by thrusting upward, nearly unbalancing Arthur who spread his wings out to compensate. The angel was torn between exploring the sun kissed body beneath him or relieving his problem. Alfred seemed to sense his issue which was amazing considering his inability of reading the atmosphere though with him it really just depended on the subject matter.

"We can go again as many times as you want ya dirty old man.", Alfred practically purred to an answering glare, the Englishman's cheeks finding some new color in them again. Ignoring the American's amusement at his expense, Arthur lifted himself up, gripping Alfred's member tightly as he aligned it with himself. Alfred groaned, making himself stay still so Arthur could adjust as his cock slid into hot tight heat. Arthur braced himself with his knees and forearms to lift and fall at regular intervals, flinging his head back as he aimed for his nerve cluster. His belly grew heavy and tight with aching need, his penis practically dripping precum from its heavy tip, shiny swollen red. The damnable ribbon was the only thing in his way from total sheer bliss.

"Alfred….Please….", Arthur gasped, not wanting to stop or play any more games. Alfred could only nod, releasing his grip on Arthur's hips to caress his mushroom tip while nimble fingers undid the knot.

The sensation was perfection painted in shades of heat and quivering flesh as Arthur came screaming to cover their chests with his essence. The event was further marked by a flash of bright white light as his wings and halo disappeared in a brilliant spray of sparkles and tiny scones(slightly burnt) that pelted the pair. Not to be distracted by magical baked goods, Alfred thrust a few more time to completion, riding out Arthur's orgasm into his own as tight muscles clapped down on him, having their way with his junk.

Arthur flopped forward boneless onto at warm broad chest to listen to the steady heartbeat beneath it. It was a sweet moment despite the mess, perfect in a rainbow glow of happiness. It was only marked by an odd grinding sound causing Arthur to look up warily at his lover as he watched Alfred pop some more of the tiny scones into his mouth.

"Bloody hell! Don't eat those git! That's disgusting!"

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	8. Chapter 8

"Below the waves! Below the waves!…..um…ur….hmmmm…Below the waves!"

A lounging crimson tailed merman groaned as the fish continued to sing their ear splitting repetitive song of insipid non rhyming. They tended to sing it at the pop of a bubble. Denmark, prince of the sea, was starting to envy clams and other mollusks. They didn't have ears.

"Wha tha matter prince? What be troublin ya, mon?", said Seb-(insert stereotypical name here and make, oddly enough, Jamaican which if anything doesn't make a lick of sense due to the geography of this story and even the movie for that matter)-the annoying red crab with a distinct accent.

"Aren't you copyrighted?", Denmark asked idly.

"?"

"Never mind.", Denmark sighed in disgust as a mouse swan by giving him the finger. It was eaten by a passing clown fish.

"Well besides the obvious. I'm bored as hell. There is nothing to do up in this bitch.", Denmark yawned, getting back to the story at the hand.

"Why don't ya go play with Mista Guppy then?", the crab suggested, Mr. Guppy being Denmark's 20 foot long, 5000lb great white shark.

"Don't wanna.", Denmark pouted, throwing pieces of gravel at the singing fish to no effect.

"Ya could go look for treasure?"

"Fuck it. Too far."

"Ya could go ride some sea horses?"

"Fuck it. Too gay."

"Ya could go practice for ma upcoming singin' event."

"Fuck off. All mermaids can sing. Who gives a shit about your productions anyway? Just cause dad has a hard on for musicals and bad ones at that."

"I don't be appreciatin your attitude!", the crab huffed, snipping his claws at the merman threateningly. Denmark raised an eyebrow at him, flicking the small crustacean off of the rock easily.

"Whatever. C'mon Mr. Guppy! Let's go!", Denmark grumbled, smacking his shark buddy awake. The crab righted itself to see the finny backside of his charge swim off.

"Where do ya think ya be goin, mon!?", the crab yelled.

"To the surface.", Denmark waved back.

"But that's forbidden, mon!", the crab panicked shrilly, trying to swim after them.

"Whatever.", was the flippant answer.

"But ya will get netted!", the crab snapped(ha-ha, I'm witty, damn it *SMACK* Author is hit with the big German boot of Shut-The-Hell-Up).

"That's tall waves for tiny tails.", Denmark shrugged.

"I be telling yo father about this, mon!", the crab threatened. He was pleased to see Denmark and his shark pause…for about two seconds.

"Mr. Guppy…..eat him.", Denmark ordered, the shark doing a quick turnabout to the high eep of a consumed crab.

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Denmark loved the surface unlike so many of his other people. It was so full of stuff to break and ugly beings with their grotesque appendages called legs and the awkward walking thing they did. Denmark wasn't sure how they lived with themselves being the freak shows that they were on a daily basis. It made him shudder, but he could seriously make fun of them for hours on end about it too so it all evened out.

Denmark was so absorbed by his inner plotting of ingenious(hey, he could dream) torments that he failed to notice the very obvious wall of netting in front of him until he smacked right into it.  
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Prince Nikolai of Norway was returning home after a long diplomatic voyage from England. His ship had stopped just short of sight of shore, the crow's nest calling down that they were practically on top of large school of glittering fish, like liquid silver set in fathomless blue. Not one to pass up on such an easy haul, the prince had ordered to anchor the ship and cast out the fishing nets. Within a few minutes the haul bell tolled violently, signaling fully loaded nets, the crew cheering excitedly at the prospect of such a generous haul. Their joy was short lived though.

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"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckkity fuck of fucking McFuckerson, FUCK!"

He had just been netted. The stories were true! Denmark panicked, thrashing wildly about, entangling himself more and more into tight bindings. Mr. Guppy swam worriedly in circles around him as Denmark started to resemble a fish burrito. Denmark managed to calm himself down enough to grin up at the glittering chaos mirror of changing light. He started to sing.  
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The storm hit them with gale force winds, flowing across the once still waters with a wrath born of magic and malice. It hummed off of Nikolai's skin, a practitioner of the mystical arts himself, the Norse mage thrown unsteady by the strength of it. Water spouts shot up in the air as whirling towers all around them to rock the sea. The crew started to panic as the ship pitched dangerously from side to side sending precious cargo into the drink. The men lashed themselves to the mast and prayed to old gods in desperate voices and in dead tongues. Nikolai called out to them though, running to the nets with naked blade in hand.

"Fools! Help me before we all drown!", Nikolai yelled, attacking the fibers. He knew this magic, knew this storm. They had just caught something wicked.

Though the net had been cut away, the storm still raged, breaking apart the once proud ship. Nikolai felt ill with despair. He had hoped that the sea creature they had ensnared would spare them but the dissidents of the sea were not known for their merciful natures. The best they could hope for now was the vessel not to sink. Nikolai moved to tie himself to something solid(and buoyant) when a wind lifted line of knotted rope whipped him across the head. He was sent flying backward over the railing, unconscious as he hit the white foamed churning water.

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The net loosened dramatically, dropping away as Denmark freed himself. He happily watched as pieces of ship broke off into the water to sink, the vessel cracking like as egg under the watery assault. No bodies yet though.

"Losing my touch.", Denmark mused, swimming toward the surface. His approach was cut off as a human hit the blue to start sinking downward. Denmark found himself staring, hindering the man's imminent descent as he grabbed hold of a blue garbed arm.

The man floated as if weightless in the water, his pale gold hair all around him like a halo, one long curl in particular held back by a cross barrette. He was a delicate, fine boned creature with pale skin that reminded Denmark of the soft sand at the bottom of the ocean that had not seen sunlight for centuries.

Denmark swam around his prize in fast circles, touching here and there, the human's blue clothing strange to him. His fingers grazed a heart shaped face, tilting it upward as silvery bubbles escaped from still sculpted lips. Denmark watched them curiously before realization gave him a swift kick to the back of his thick skull.

The human was drowning.

He had just never cared before.

Denmark collected the man up swiftly into his arms, the merman's powerful tail easily propelling them both to the surface in an instant. The storm still raged on around them, sending high waves over the pair constantly, totally not helping with the whole not drowning thing.

"Awwww crap. Forgot about this….", Denmark muttered, quickly singing a cease to it. The sea smoothed its voluminous skirts out with a lingering sigh of wind and then all was still.

The ship looked more like a relic than seaworthy vessel. Denmark doubted the crew of it would be of any real help if anyone was still left alive or not try to kill him on sight. The merman swam swiftly to the shore instead, his precious cargo's head kept well above the water line.

Denmark rode the surf in, crawling the rest of the way until waves only barely lapped at his tail, making the merman ache for the familiar pressure of water all around him. Air just felt so…..empty.

Denmark sucked all the water from the man's lungs easily enough. Water obeyed his whim and best of all, he found the man's lips were very soft and plaint in his forced sleep. The merman played with his captive's hair, twirling it around his fingers as he lazily sang a song of healing, feeling particularly generous for some reason. The man's eyes woozily slid open from time to time to blankly stare up at him unseeing. Denmark loved their blue depths, their color reminding him of the hidden currents of sea water trapped within caves of coral far below the waves.

"Love you.", Denmark cooed down at the sleeping prince, kissing at his cool lips, licking the salt and blood from them, "Want you. Need you."

Merpeople were true believers of love at first sight, basing their life mates solely off of it. When it happened, they knew it immediately and it was for life. Denmark felt the painful pull upon him now, nothing like he had ever felt before with another. He was drawn body and soul to this beautiful man…..this human.

Denmark started to undress the prince, wanting to see his mate clearly. In his creeper defense, merpeople found clothing weird and unnecessary. They didn't wear them, choosing decoration at most to enhance. Seashells, glittering stones, bits of treasure, and other various things were often braided into their sumptuous hair. Merpeople grew out their hair long for this sole purpose. The longer the hair, the most they could collect, keep, and wear. Kelp and other fibrous plants were sometimes braided into bands to wear or wrap if one was feeling particular industrious. Despite popular landlubber opinions, seashell bras were highly overrated and very uncomfortably(not that Denmark would know).

The curious merman had managed to get the top part off(he had had some problems with the concept of buttons) when he heard people shouting out a name far off in the distance.

"Nikolai! Your highness! Prince Nikolai! Where are you!?"

Denmark scowled in their general direction angrily. From the sounds of it they would be here soon enough. Not enough time for him to properly claim what was rightfully his, so he would just have to settle with marking his mate. Denmark tilted the prince's delicate head to the side, baring a long pale neck to him. The merman bit down on it, inflicting a perfect set of teeth marks, the ocean prince lapping up the blood that seeped from it like a cat. He savored his mate's scent and taste, memorizing it as part of his very being. Denmark would be able to find him anywhere now. He returned the favor by biting his own tongue, delving it deeply into the depths of the prince's mouth, letting his own essence drip down his throat. Denmark watched as the prince's eyes fluttered open and tried to focus on him.

Denmark pulled back to kiss the tip of his nose, singing him a farewell as he launched himself back into the safety of the ocean. He surfaced a good distance away to see his life mate…this Nikolai….being helped up wobbly by two others dressed similarly to him in blue. He stayed long enough to watch the men take his mate away from the shore. Denmark swam away after he lost sight of them, angrily slapping his tail against the water's surface. He would be back….

…He just didn't know how.

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Denmark sulked, pulling up strands of seaweed irritably as he became lost in thought. He wasn't powerful enough to make the Nord a merman or (and as much as it pained him to even consider it) himself a human. There was one, however, who could fulfill his every wish, though the thought of it made him cringe. Hopefully, the bitch wouldn't ask too much in return. Denmark swam off to visit the sea witch Iceland.  
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The sea witch Iceland glared with an icy air of boredom at the ocean prince, his amethyst eyes half lidded. He was flanked by two very angry looking puffins. Denmark didn't like them at first sight. The feeling became very apparently mutual.

"Hey Vinny! Just look at the balls on this mook.", said one.

"I hear ya Vito. Youtes want us to throw this bum out boss?", Vinny the puffin grinned with violent hope. Denmark was less than impressed with his avian overconfidence.

"Why aren't you drowning? Puffins can't breathe underwater.", Denmark asked.

"Are ya wicked retarded or something?", Vinny snapped.

"We work for a sea witch. You figure if out champ. Frigging genius o-va here.", Vito countered.

Iceland shushed them absently with a wave of tentacle. The sea witch was a being of pale features with silvery platinum hair and snowy skin. His lower half was a mass of swirling tentacles that moved continuously. He reminded Denmark of a corpse if not for his burning gemlike eyes that seared him to his core.

"I am very busy and I haven't got all day.", Iceland said softly, making Denmark wince in response.

"I want….."

"I know what you want idiot. Half the ocean knows what you want. It's not like you are subtle. The price is your voice.", Iceland stated briskly.

"What the hell? What kind of shit deal is that? That kinda defeats the fucking point of it. How am I suppose to talk to the guy then?", Denmark snarled.

"Not my problem. You have one month from now to get the prince to kiss you of his own volition. No hints to him, no notes, nothing directly from you. If he doesn't, you turn into sea foam on the last day of the full moon.", the sea witch yawned.

"That sounds like one hell of a bad deal.", Denmark glared back, cursing to himself fluidly.

What choice did he have really….?

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A deal was struck for better or worse…The source of the prince's powers was stripped painfully away. A mermaid's voice was the source of their supremacy, magic, and being. Denmark was rendered useless, arching from the separation as his gorgeous crimson tail was split apart to form legs, horrible grotesque legs…  
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Denmark managed to crawl up onto the shore, flopping weakly onto his back to suck in sweet tasting air, his gills from the side of his neck gone with everything else useful. Mr. Guppy looked woefully at him from the sea, having barely rescued his drowning master in time. Denmark winced as his lungs burned, spitting up the last of the sea water from them. In a complete dick move, Iceland hadn't even waited until he was anywhere near the surface to change him. Denmark waved to his beloved pet from the shore, technically fine until he looked down.

"What the hell is this shit?!", Denmark screamed in his own head, his jaw dropping wordlessly open in a silent cry of revulsion. He stared wide eyed at his very prominent cock and balls, sitting up on the sand to study them intently.

"Seriously what the fuck is this shit?! It's all dangly and lumpy!", Denmark scowled, poking at it. He ended up poking himself a little too hard in the ball sack, curling up from his overzealous investigation.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit….this sucks! Oh Poseidon! What the hell!? Why is all that just all out in the open?", Denmark whimpered, trying to remember how to breathe again. Eventually, the pain faded and he was able to sit up again to continue his self inspection( a little more carefully this time).

"Note to self. Protect those.", Denmark grumped, looking around now. This whole place in his opinion sucked. The sand was grainy and too hot. It was also getting into places he never knew he had(quite literally). The sun was mercilessly beating down on him, his water submerged pale skin turning a bright shade of pink for some reason. That couldn't be good.

Denmark made himself get up on his new legs, as awkward and weird as it felt. The split appendage had been a tail previously so all of the muscles were still there, just rearranged oddly. It was simply a matter of finding some balance and coordination. After some trial and error with a fair amount of face planting, Denmark managed a hobbling shuffle. Having mastered walking….well, kinda…..Denmark decided he was bored. Luckily a distraction provided itself to him.

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Nikolai felt sick, deathly ill in fact, since his near drowning. Something foreign festered inside of him. It wasn't mixing well with his own natural magic. The mark on his neck didn't help matters either. It felt like a collar imbedded into his flesh, though the master at the end of it had yet to present himself to him.

Nikolai had taken to walking along the beach since that fateful day on a daily basis in a vain attempt to find whoever or whatever saved him, claimed him, or both. Debts would have to be repaid and enemies dealt with accordingly. The prince was dressed for battle, a thick book of spells tucked under one arm with a sharp sword at his other side, and his mage staff in other hand.

Nikolai leaned heavily on his staff in sudden pain, dropping his book to clutch at the bite mark. It burned, sending waves of pain throughout his slim body. Whatever had marked him drew near now. It was time to face his nemesis.

He was very surprised to see a very naked sunburned man stumbling around on the beach, stopping to wave occasionally to a large shark out in the surf. Nikolai approached him cautiously, silent in step and in manner. The man whipped around though, seemingly fully aware of his presence, nearly falling over in the process. The naked man grinned up at the prince like they knew each other, picking himself off of the ground to stumble over.

Nikolai stared at him perplexed, though he did notice that the pain from the bite faded out the closer the stranger drew near. The man was tall, much taller that him, the impression of height emphasized more by the wild golden locks that flowed from the man's head, blatantly defying gravity with every stubborn fiber. He met his cool gaze steadily with fierce blue eyes that held an almost mad light from within as they openly studied Nikolai's face, making him blush slightly for some reason. The Norge did not recognize him and yet this stranger ached with an air of familiarity.

"Could it be?", Nikolai wondered, readying himself for the worst of anything. He drew himself up to his height, holding his head high.

"Who are you? And what do you wish of me?", Nikolai asked coldly, keeping his face carefully blank. Fear would not aid him here, only calm resolve and fortitude. He braced himself for anything, any sick request, any demand upon his being. The naked man blinked down at him and pursed his lips together, pointing to them.

Nikolai stared back at him. The man grinned at him, gesturing again to his kissy face.

Nikolai looked up at the sky as if for guidance before smacking the hell out of him. The man fell over, thrown easily off balance to splay out across the sand, his hands jerked down quickly to protect his balls for some reason.

"You're just an idiot!", Nikolai snapped, glaring down at the stunned man, who had yet to say anything. Nikolai sighed, suddenly exhausted after the intense buildup. It was obvious that this was just some poor soul who had somehow survived some sort of disaster, probably a shipwreck by his state of undress. Driven mad by the sun and lack of water, he probably didn't even know where he was or who he was. If anything, he was probably just grateful to see another human being.

"C'mon idiot.", Nikolai ordered, taking the man's large hand into his own smaller one to help him up. It was strangely soft and smooth though against his own heavily callused one. This was no sailor. He inspected the palms of them to find them perfectly unmarked. In fact, all of the man's skin was like that. Except for a sunburn, it was all expanses of pale perfection, silky and unlined. The man stared down at him in amusement letting the prince's gaze linger, who studied his companion more carefully now. Muscular body, fluidly built not bulky, the lines of it produced from constant movement, not hard labor.

"Not a fighter….a dancer perhaps? Good teeth, no scars…..Nobility?", Nikolai mused to himself, taking off his cloak to offer it to the man who stared at it obviously confused. Nikolai finally had to just put it on him, though the garment was a little short on his lankier frame. It was like he had never seen clothes before, "A prized slave perhaps?"

"Who are you?", Nikolai asked curiously. The man looked back at him with a strangely hurt expression with hints of disbelief, sorrow, and confusion in it. Oddly enough, he still managed to look vaguely amused as he pointed to his throat, gurgling.

"Oh…you can't talk.", Nikolai surmised correctly. Something was nagging him about this stranger, like a word on the tip of his tongue. It was too much of a coincidence to just find him here.

"You didn't happen to have a run-in with a mermaid, did you?", Nikolai asked. The man stared back at him in shock, before dissolving into fits of silent uncontrolled laughter. The former merman laughed until salt tears poured out of his sea blue eyes.

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"So why the hell are we here? Dude, I'm freezing my nuts and berries off.", Alfred whined. He was ignored mostly because it was the same complaint he had been uttering for the last couple of days. It was really starting to set Arthur's teeth on edge.

"What part of 'royal summons' are you not grasping, git!?", Arthur snapped smacking the American upside the head, hurting his own hand in the process. Alfred barely registered it of course.

"I dunno Al. I kinda like it.", Matthew mused, enjoying the chill of the air. It made him nostalgic for his Canadian homelands.

"I like it here too liebling.", Gilbert smirked, seeing a chance to lean up close against the blonde whose polar bear cub growled irritably at the Prussian.

"Hey Mattie, why is Gilbert touching you? Gil, why are you touching Mattie? What going on?", Alfred asked bewildered, not too quick on the uptake.

"Hush love, grownups are talking.", Arthur sighed, patting Alfred's arm in a vague attempt at comfort.

"No one tells me anything.", Alfred whined, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout.

"Maybe if you ever bothered to pull your head out of your own arse and read the bleeding atmosphere from time to time!", Arthur berated, pinching the bridge of his nose as if in pain.

"So why are we here?", Alfred asked again, not one to lose hold of an idea.

"Because poppet, we were invited here by the crown prince of Norway himself to court. One tends to show up when that happens. Now do shut it. You are lowering the IQ of the group if not the country with every word. We want to make a good impression.", Arthur admonished, rolling his eyes.

"You're so mean.", Alfred pouted, committing himself to a huff any four year old would have been proud of as they walked down chilled winding corridors, "I meant what did his royal pain in the cold butt want us to do?"

"That in itself is a mystery.", Ludwig answered this time. The German was wondering that himself. The summons had been a very vague communication.

"Do you think he wants to give us pasta?", Feliciano asked hopefully, reminding Ludwig of the Italian growth he had developed. The petite man was currently glued to his side, clutching at his arm. He would occasionally wave a little white flag at the guards they passed. Ludwig had long given up explaining to him that they had been invited here and it was quite unnecessary.

"Nein, I doubt it.", Ludwig sighed, wishing it were that simple. The only sure thing about it all was that their presence had been pretty much demanded here. That could be really good and profitable or really bad and costly(bail tended to be expensive), but seeing how this was their first time in Norway, being brought up on charges was pretty slim.

"So we really don't know?", Alfred sighed. He hated suspense. It reminded him of ghosts, just waiting to pop out.

"Scheiße, I hate going in blind.", Gilbert grumbled, stroking the handles of his beloved swords(both named Fritz oddly enough) for comfort(and making the guards very nervous). Unknowing made him antsy and an antsy Prussian was a very bad thing(usually for other people's health).

"Well I guess we should just ask him then.", Matthew murmured, the great hall's door flung open to reveal the prince practically curled up on his stone throne, a heavy fur thrown over him. It did nothing to ease or hide his shivering though.

The prince looked not long for this world. Pale flushed skin was slick with a feverish sweat that soaked limp locks of pale hair. A fever painted shallow cheeks with a permanent hot blush as vacant blue eye regarded them dully through a veil of pain.

The prince's court was bare save for one, a tall blonde with wild locks of golden hair, dressed strikingly in red and black leather. He brooded by a window overlooking the sea, stopping only to move closer to the prince protectively as the group approached.

"You're late.", Nikolai spat, giving the company a hard glare.

"Fuck off. We were busy.", Gilbert snapped back, as helpful and diplomatic as always. Ludwig refrained from face palming to wave the albino to immediate silence. He was helped out by Matthew, who dragged the Prussian to the back to have the 'why we don't piss of royalty/rich clients' speech. Alfred rocked back and forth on his heels, feeling(and looking) very smug about it all. It was entirely undo of course because the usually noisy American had been given a very sticky toffee by Arthur, effectively gluing his jaw together(on a side note, one had also been given to Feliciano by Ludwig as well. The German felt it was the best money he had ever spent).

"Please forgive mein bruder. It has been a very long journey and we are tired.", Ludwig said smoothly, trying to get back to the matter at hand. He wanted to conclude this business as quickly as possible. The blonde standing guard was really starting to creep him out.

"I don't care. I'm dying.", Nikolai coughed, wiping away bloody spittle. He shifted painfully to reveal a bandage wrapped around his neck, the white linen seeped with black matter.

"We can see that plainly for ourselves, your grace.", Arthur said gravely, trying as well to ignore the silent blonde who bared his sharp looking teeth at them. Arthur felt like there was something off about him.

"I don't have much time left and I need you to set my affairs in order.", Nikolai struggled. His health had been rapidly declining over the course of the month for no apparent reason. He had tried every healing spell he knew and had even conferred with other mages about it. His condition had worsened with each passing day though despite all efforts. Nikolai feared he would not live past the next full moon.

"If we are able to, we will help you. We are not healers though. What is your request?", Ludwig ventured carefully.

"I need you to find a mermaid, the one who has cursed me. I want you to kill it. I also want you to track down the one who pulled me from the sea and repay him for me. Failing all that, my last request is that I want you to help the man behind me. He has been cursed as well I think by the mermaids if not the same one. My magic has grown too weak to pinpoint it or aid me anymore.", Nikolai said, gesturing weakly to the blonde behind him, "He has had his voice stolen or lost. I have been calling him Matthias."

Denmark, now called Matthias, gave his prince a worried look, shaking his head at the request. Nikolai glared back at him.

"I found you on the beach and you are my responsibility.", Nikolai glared. Denmark stared back at him in a miserable state. All attempts of getting the prince to kiss him had failed horribly, crashed and burned really. The Nord was a freaking rock or simply dead from the neck down. Denmark wasn't sure how the hell he was resisting all the sexy he was bringing. To both of the Nordics' surprise though, Ludwig shook his head.

"We can not accept this job.", the German said regretfully. Nikolai made himself sit up as painful and tiring as it was to him.

"Why not?! Money is not an issue. Name your price!", the prince snapped, very put out. He didn't want to waste precious time haggling.

"Money is not the issue. Man power is. With the exception of one(Arthur took a moment to look very smug) none of us are experienced seamen(That's what she said!-G Shut up Gil! Not helping!-M) and besides, it would take far too long to look for this creature that is not even in our area of expertise. I am sorry but lack of experience means death in our business. I will not sacrifice my men to search in such a reckless manner.", Ludwig explained seriously. The prince was about to argue(i.e. threaten) his point when something surprising happened.

"Sacrifice, smack-crifice. Take the damn job West.", Gilbert yawned, taking time to clean out his ear with his finger to idly flick the offerings away.

"What?! I have just explained it would take too long and….", Ludwig started to yell to be cut off.

"Too long? What are you talking about? The guy is right there.", Alfred interjected, obviously confused and out of toffee. He gestured to Denmark helpfully, whose neck snapped whiplash fast to look at the pair of awesome before him. He felt an instant bond with them.

"Ja, fatass(HEY!) is right. So what is the big deal anyway? Let's just collect and go already. Mystery solved.", Gilbert sneezed, already bored. The collection of jaws dropping was audible(with the exception of Feliciano who had wandered off a while ago to play with a kitty). Denmark moved closer to join the blonde and the albino.

"What in the bloody hell are you going on about you daft wankers?", Arthur growled.

"Duhh, winning. This dude, Matthi-whatever, is the mermaid, savior guy. Seriously, how are you all missing this?", Alfred stated confidently with a wide grin. Denmark nodded, practically glowing. Finally, some intelligent people.

"That is an amazing deduction, considering he looks nothing like one.", Arthur said dryly, "Missing a tail a bit I think."

"Ja, but he's right. He's…..under a spell.", Gilbert guessed. Denmark threw him a thumbs up and motioned for them to keep going. Technically, he wasn't telling the prince anything.

"If that is so, why can't he talk? Merpeople are supposed to be able to sing.", Nikolai asked, not convinced. The man was just some random idiot who wanted a kiss all of the time. He was actually quite embarrassing, but his presence made the prince feel better for some reason.

The trio took a seat on the floor as Denmark leaned forward to push his mental energy toward the two, Alfred sticking his tongue out in deep concentration while Gilbert talked it over with his chick quietly.

"He lost his voice!", Alfred offered. Denmark gave him a 'No Shit Sherlock' look in return.

"Nein! He sold or traded it!", Gilbert corrected to two thumbs up from the former merman.

"Oh pish, why would he do that?", Arthur sighed, playing along reluctantly.

"To watch me die up close and personal.", Nikolai snorted ruefully. Denmark turned around to look up at him sadly.

"No dude! He wouldn't do that! He totally digs you!", Alfred yelled, earning him a thumbs up.

"Funny that. Why is the prince dying then?", Arthur asked flatly, getting down to brass tacks.

"Cause…..cause….he didn't mean to?", Alfred floundered.

"Brilliant!", Arthur snapped with a roll of eyes.

"That and it…..it's tied to his own curse spell thingy!", Alfred recovered to gain another point for playing.

"So if the prince dies, then he does as well?", Arthur confirmed, studying the former merman now with interest. Denmark nodded.

"What a bloody stupid spell. Are you a complete idiot?", Arthur stated, giving Denmark a disgusted look.

"Let's not worry aboot that now. How do we break the spell?", Matthew interrupted, feeling a fight was imminent if Arthur was allowed to keep going. The Englishman excelled in deprecating humor. The merman looked liked he excelled at kicking ass. The trio settled into their wavelength of awesome connection again.

"Um…..he has to…has to…", Alfred began.

"Fuck him!", Gilbert finished, quite confident with his answer. Every one froze for a moment as things were considered. On his part, Denmark recovered the quickest to grin widely, shaking his head emphatically 'yes'. Before Gilbert and Alfred could expand on this topic though, the big German boot of 'Shut-The-Hell-Up' came crashing down upon them.

"Let's try a kiss first, and go on from there, shall we?", Matthew intervened tactfully as the others were violently dealt with. Denmark left them to their fate to walk over the prince, kneeling before his throne to take a pallid hand into his own, pressing a tender kiss to the meat of its palm.

"I would rather die.", Nikolai said flatly, jerking his hand back. Denmark fell over in surprise. Everyone else stopped to stare up at the sullen prince.

"But why?", Alfred asked, "Dude, all you have to do is kiss the guy."

"He is a merman who kills people. One life to save many is a fair price. My death will ensure his own and my people will be safer for it.", Nikolai explained tiredly, his mind made up.

"But…you'll die.", Alfred reminded him.

"Everything has its price.", the prince stated simply. Denmark gripped his head tightly with his hands to pull at his wild locks, gurgling out in his frustration. He looked plaintively over at the other two of awesome.

"You dumbass. He didn't do this cause he hates you. He is in love with you and love will prevail!", Alfred yelled, striking a heroic pose. Matthew edged away from him, wishing for real invisibility.

"Ja and he saved you!", Gilbert reminded, "Why did he save you to turn human and watch you die!? He could have just drowned your ass. It kinda the mermaid MO.".

Nikolai blinked in surprise over the realization. The silverette was correct though. If it was all true, the merman had saved him, thus he technically owed him something for that. Plus there was the whole turning human thing to consider. Nikolai had never heard or read of a merperson going to such great lengths to finish off a victim of theirs. They tended to be more ruthlessly efficient about such matters.

"Look at it this way. You can always kill him afterward.", Ludwig added helpfully. The merman gave him a sour look in return before turning his full attention back to the prince. Nikolai sighed, obviously conceding. Denmark(who didn't want to turn to sea foam and was more that willing to take his chances) moved quickly to sit on the throne, gathering up the smaller, weaker man into his lap to cradle him close.

"I hate you.", Nikolai told him in a tired, sincere tone. The merman shrugged, laughing without a sound as he bent over him to place cool lips against feverish one. He deepened the kiss as he held the prince firmly in place. Nikolai's eyes flew open as he became aware of fabric ripping underneath him. His warm seat changed from leather to something slickly solid. Nikolai tried to break the kiss but was denied as a tongue flicked at his teeth irritably and sharp teeth nibbled lightly on his bottom lip. Fingers glittering with crimson scales and ending in claws hooked into his neck's bandage, pulling it off.  
Nikolai cringed at the foul smell of the wound, his collar of meat for a month. The merman's kiss left his mouth to clamp down on the mark, sucking at the ruined flesh. Nikolai's fingers dug deeply into the merman's golden hair to pull at the metallic strands in pain, trying to rip him away from it until he realized the creature was drawing out the poison from it. He quit resisting, relaxing back into the caged hold he was in. The pain eased away from him, the movement on the merman's lips upon his skin becoming oddly pleasant. Nikolai ignored these sensations even as his body shivered from them. The merman finally drew back from it to lap at clean fresh blood that seeped from the new set of teeth marks, the old one fading out entirely.

Nikolai nearly gagged as his mouth was retaken, this time with blood though not his own. The merman's blood was salty and bitter and yet seemed so familiar somehow. Nikolai was forced to swallow it, clawed fingers working his jaw and throat. The prince shoved back at the creature, finally able to push him away. He realized in surprise he actually had the strength to do so. Nikolai stared down at his hands, the appendages a healthy shade again. He felt his cheeks as well, cool and free of fever for the first time in weeks. Nikolai also realized he was still very much in the merman's lap, looking up at him wide eyed to be met fully with cobalt blue look.

"How fucking hard was that?! One fucking little kiss, you damn miser! We could have avoided all of this for one teeny tiny kiss!", Denmark yelled, slapping his tail in anger. Nikolai found himself sitting on top of a scarlet tail, the scales of it glittering like captured rubies highlighted with onyx markings. Fins and barbs flowed from key places down it, the base of the tail fanning out gracefully in flowing segments that trailed out. The merman took a moment to shove off the rest of his clothing to reveal pale hairless skin, smooth and strangely textured though still soft to the touch. His body had black markings that ran from the base of his tail up to his arms and neck in a rather pretty design, his arms and back of his hands glittering with red scaling while his elbows had finned barbs that lay against the line of his body. Nikolai could see his gills now as well, three slits behind his ears on his neck that moved subtly. The smell of salt and brine tickled at the prince's nose as the merman shifted underneath him.

Nikolai pulled out his dagger smoothly to press it to Denmark's throat, who just grinned in response.

"What the hell are you smiling about?', Nikolai growled irritated. He wanted this fool to beg before he killed him.

"You can't kill me. We're life mates now.", Denmark purred. Nikolai stared back at him in surprise. 'Life mate' didn't sound good. To prove his point that he could, Nikolai tried to press the blade forward, finding himself unable to, his hand shaking under the stress of it until the dagger fell completely from his fingers. Nikolai stared down at it numbly.

"What have you done to me?", Nikolai murmured softly, his eyes growing cold as he made himself look at the merman, who drew him closer to start nuzzling at his neck.

"Made you mine.", Denmark sighed happily, wrapping himself bodily around the prince.

"Well this looks like the start of a really fucked up relationship. Can we get paid?", Gilbert asked.

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The company was grudgingly paid for services rendered, having solved three out three mysteries, just not how the prince would have desired.

Though he found he could not kill Denmark or risk having him killed, Nikolai did find out that he could hit him(quite a lot actually) and toss his finny ass back into the ocean, which he did so pronto.

That left him with a different set of problems altogether. The weather refused to clear up after the merman's sudden departure, heavy rains sweeping in from the sea to pour down on the countryside day in and day out continuously.

Finally fed up with the dampness and the threat of flooding, Nikolai went down to the edge of the sea.

"I know you are out there! I'm getting wet! Quit wasting my time you idiot!", Nikolai yelled over the wind. A blonde head surfaced in answer to his call, the merman riding in to shore on the waves. He carved out a pool of water with the surf at the base of a rock so that the pair could converse comfortably.

"Stop this.", Nikolai ordered, cutting right to the chase as he gestured to the iron gray skies.

"Don't wanna.", Denmark pouted, debating internally if he wanted to stay in the pool or climb up on the rock to sit with the Nord.

"What do you want?", Nikolai sighed. He couldn't let this continue.

"You.", the merman grinned up at him widely.

"Besides me.", Nikolai growled, glaring coldly down at him. Denmark frowned, already turning back to the sea. Nikolai leaned over quickly, nearly falling off of his perch, to grab hold of the merman's shoulder. Denmark froze at the touch, leaning into it.

"Wait. Name your terms.", Nikolai sighed, "But stop this rain first."

Denmark stilled himself to study the other thoughtfully. He liked it when the prince touched him, wanted more of it. He parted his full lips to let a song pour from them. The sea below and the sky above listened to him intently as the world stilled once again and the sun came out of hiding.

Nikolai was caught off guard by it. He had only read in books about the power of the merpeople's voice. The description did not do it justice in the slightest. It was lovely, achingly beautiful to hear. It made every part of his being stand to attention in an vain effort to experience it fully somehow. It ended too quickly for his liking Nikolai found to his own shock. Caught up in his haze, the prince failed to notice the merman until his heavy head was in his lap, the creature leaning heavily against his legs, his long arms wrapped around his narrow waist. Movement, much less escape, was effectively denied.

Despite his many reservations, Nikolai placed his hands on top of Denmark's silky head, if not only for the comfortable positioning. The two sat in silence for a while, one lost in confused thought, the other to contentment.

"Can you do that without causing trouble?", Nikolai finally ventured, his want and curiosity getting the better of him.

"What?", Denmark asked, tilting his head up to look at the prince in surprise. He watched the Nord turn a lovely shade of pink, chewing his bottom lip lightly in irritation.

"Sing, fool.", Nikolai snapped, looking away from him. Denmark smiled, laying his head back down to softly start singing. After a moment, Nikolai started to hesitantly stroke his hair as he watched white clouds moved slowly overhead.

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Far off from atop a high road, the company looked down upon the odd pair.

"Do you think it will work?", Matthew asked wistfully.

"Who gives a shit! Let's get the hell out of here while it's still dry. Gilbird is about to turn into a damn duck. Fucking mermaid."

"Merman actually."

"Whatever."

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When the sun began to finally set, Nikolai moved to leave, pushing at the merman. He found himself unable to though, a tight grip around his waist constricting sharply to keep him in his seat.

"Let me up fool.", Nikolai commanded coldly, shoving at corded shoulders dappled with crimson scales. Denmark responded by biting him lightly through his clothing, warning him to be still as he nuzzled his belly. The prince felt his pale cheeks heat up. It felt oddly pleasing, the intimate contact sending little shivers through his body.

"Stop it….", Nikolai started to snap, his remark cut short as he was jerked off of his rock perch into the shallow salt water pool. The merman twisted his sinewy body around him, his crimson tail spiraling down the prince's legs to encase them securely.

Nikolai fought back now or at least tried to, struggling against his cage of salty flesh. Denmark rolled them easily to catch the Norge's failing hands. Bound and caught, Nikolai glared up at him.

"So what now monster? Are you going to eat me?", Nikolai sighed, the fight going out of him. His resistance was futile in the face of such inhuman strength and being so close to the merman's natural element. He was surprised to see Denmark scowl down at him in answer though.

"You don't have to worry about that now. Mermaids don't eat their life mates. I could have before but not now. Not ever.", Denmark said reproachfully. The prince rolled his eyes at him.

"How reassuring.", Nikolai sighed, "Are you going to let me up then? I am getting wet."

"Humans do that?", Denmark asked surprised, leaning heavily over the Norge to inhale deeply. The prince's scent was heavenly to him. Nikolai tried hitting him again for the odd(and inappropriate)question.

"What!? No! From the WATER, you dolt! Get off of me!", Nikolai blushed, renewing his struggles.

"No. You are mine.", Denmark growled, ending the distance between them by latching onto the prince's neck, remarking him for the third time. Nikolai cried out, cursing him fluidly as the merman leaned back enough to start lapping at the new shallow wound.

"Stop doing that! It hurts!", Nikolai yelled at him, trying again to twist somehow away. He knew the next part, turning his head as far as he could to the side. It was a wasted effort though, his lips claimed and parted forcefully by hard fingers and a searing hot tongue. The prince clamped down on the slick muscle in an effort to resist and retaliate before realizing it was already bleeding. He was just aiding the merman in what he wanted, his mouth filling with bitter blood. As Denmark drew away, the Norge spat it back into his face defiantly. The merman growled at him in frustrated anger, parting his bloody lips to sing. Nikolai's eyes widened painfully in horror as he watched an encompassing wave come crashing down upon them, pulling the pair back into the ocean like a giant hand. Denmark released the prince's legs to drag them down to a certain pressing depth. Nikolai struggled, gesturing desperately for air. With a powerful flick of his tail, Denmark shot them up to the surface, Nikolai gulping down lungfuls of sweet air.

"What the hell are you doing…?", the prince started, his orifice claimed again by the other, another mouthful of blood shoved into it. Nikolai managed to spit most of it out, glaring balefully at his tormentor.

"Quit being so damn stubborn! Swallow it or I'll just make you pass out and feed it to you. Your choice.", Denmark snapped, the merman rather put out that his tongue was a shredded mess now. Merpeople healed very quickly but injuries still hurt.

"Go to hell!", Nikolai growled, kicking at the sea creature though his limbs moved awkwardly slow and ineffectual in the saltwater. Denmark sighed, flipping them backward without pause. Nikolai felt himself dragged deeper down than before, the waning light dying under the waves as water rushed into the prince's mouth, his scream lost in silvery bubbles. He blacked out.

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Nikolai woke up achingly slow. He felt so groggy it was like his body was almost weightless or something akin to that. He was aware of movement all around him, sensing something was amiss as he struggled through the dark. Was this death?

"Under the waves, under the waves, under the waves…..um….Second verse, same as the first! Under the waves!"

Nikolai's eyes snapped open to find himself underwater, leaning against Denmark in a cradle of his arms and tail surrounded by hundreds of brightly colored fish…..that were singing horribly. Nikolai groaned clutching his head.

"Yeah, I know. It's gods awful but they only know the one song.", Denmark commented, flicking rocks at random fish in a dull effort to stop the madness. It was a losing battle of course.

"Am I dead?", Nikolai asked hesitantly. He had always imagined the afterlife to have less seafood in it. The prince startled when he realized fully that he was underwater, talking to the merman underwater without the nasty side effects of drowning or being crushed to death by extreme water pressure and cold. Denmark laughed as he watched the human pale.

"No dumbass. You're not dead. Why the hell do you think I was doing all that? After three blood exchanges, you can come down here and I can go up there…..in our own forms. I'm not powerful enough for full transformations and Dad's a dick about it.", Denmark grinned, feeling quite pleased with himself. He was met with a cold stare though, the prince obviously not impressed.

"Why didn't you just tell me that!?", Nikolai growled, smacking the merman upside the head.

"Why can't you just trust me?!", Denmark snapped, scowling at the prince who stared back at him incredulously.

"Are you serious!? You destroy my flagship, drown most of my crew, curse me, and then kidnap me.", Nikolai stated flatly, crossing his arms. Denmark blinked under the information.

"Besides all that.", he shrugged.

"Take me back.", the prince grimaced.

"Don't wanna.", the merman pouted, holding his human tighter to him.

"Don't care. I have a kingdom to run.", Nikolai rolled his eyes. It was like dealing with a petulant child half the time, a large scaly child with incredible power and an unhealthy fascination/delusion with him. The merman ignored him, choosing to chuck loose gravel at more singing fish. The Nord rolled his eyes, squirming his way out of the hold on him to push upward through the water. If he could breathe underwater, he could just swim back to the surface.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you.", Denmark warned in a light casual tone, taking out a passing clown fish who seemed lost.

"Why not? You're useless.", Nikolai glared, pausing though to watch the merman lazily gesture about. The prince looked around, really looked around to take in his surroundings. It turned out the ocean was full of life, massive amounts of it and a lot of it was a hell of a lot bigger than him(like swallow you whole big). It looked hungry. Nikolai swallowed hard, sinking slowly back down to sit beside the very amused merman. His odds of escape just went down significantly. The prince knew he was trapped until the merman sought to release him or kill him….or drive him crazy. The singing fish weren't helping matters much.

"Can't you shut them up?", Nikolai asked sighing, feeling an immanent headache coming on from the racket.

"No, but we can get out of here. Come on.", Denmark offered, tired of the musical himself. He gathered the prince up into his arms, darting off with a flick of his tail.

"Why is a shark following you?", Nikolai observed nervously, a giant great white shark swimming near them to keep pace.

"Huh….oh, that's just Mr. Guppy. He's cool.", Demark answered absently, not really interested in anything else but the person in his arms at the moment.

"Where are we going?", Nikolai ventured, watching as the scenery passed at a speedy rate, the merman covering a surprising amount of distance in such a short time, "You don't have to swim me. I can't escape anyway."

"I know. I like it though and it keeps you from touching the coral.", Denmark grinned.

"Why is that a big deal?", Nikolai asked, already knowing he was not going to like the answer to it.

"Cause most of it is poisonous.", the merman laughed.

"Perfect.", the prince grumbled.

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They came to a grotto of rock, the merman taking a moment to excavate all potentially hazardous life forms from it. It was a small enclave of stone illuminated by strange glowing seaweed that gave off a faint blue light, casting strange shadows about. It revealed smooth walls, its surfaces worn down by currents and riddled with makeshift shelves. The bottom of it was fairly flat and filled with pale sand. The convenient cliffs were filled with random bits of things. Nikolai noted that merpeople seemed to like bright colors, especially metallic ones, judging from the fair amount of treasure mixed in with different manners of junk. Crowns and jewels sat on the same shelf as shards of colorful painted wood and bits of cloth taken from wrecked ships. The prince also noticed more than a few bones here as well, some of them obviously human.

Nikolai chose to sit on the ocean floor, finding the sand oddly soft beneath him. He deemed it the safest place to be and at least he could now say that he had done it. Denmark moved to coil around him instantly, looking overly pleased with himself for some reason.

"What is this place?", Nikolai asked, choosing to ignore the hands that roamed his body and the lips that pressed to his throat hungrily.

"It's where I sleep.", Denmark shrugged, not really interested in their surroundings. They were finally alone, out of that damnible open air shit with Mr. Guppy outside to dissuade anyone from bothering them.

"It's your house?", the prince pushed the issue, trying to distract the merman. It worked momentarily, Denmark looking up in curiosity, his brow furrowing.

"What's that?"

"Never mind.", Nikolai sighed, watching the merman become fascinated with his sleeve buttons, slipping them in and out of the eyelets with unhidden delight.

"Why do you wear these? I never got to ask.", Denmark asked, pleased with himself for having mastered buttons. Most of his clothes when he had been human had luckily had ties or buckles. Norway regarded him thoughtfully. The question seemed sincere and genuinely curious.

"Various reasons. Mostly to deal with the elements and some people look better with them on.", Nikolai mused thoughtfully. Merpeople didn't seem to enjoy clothing much. Denmark's first couple of days on land had been awkward to day none the least. Even in his human form, he had barely acknowledged temperature changes, perfectly happy to stay butt bare naked in chilling weather.

"I want to see what you look like with yours off.", Denmark grinned, flicking more of the buttons open this time in the front to reveal glimpses of pale skin and dusky pink nipples. Nikolai rolled his eyes, sighing as he smacked the merman's hands away.

"Stop that. Be serious.", the prince snapped, re-buttoning his garment.

"I am being serious.", Denmark huffed thoroughly put out, tightening his grip on the Norge, " I thought you wanted an agreement between us." Nikolai paused to stare at the creature in surprise, studying his face for sincerity with careful attention.

"Like what? What do you propose?", the prince ventured, not expecting a whole lot. The merman nuzzled his hand affectionately, longing for its touch.

"Calmer weather, safe harbor, protection from your enemies.", Denmark mouthed into the meat of Nikolai's palms like a prayer, trialing his lips up to slim wrists to nip at them playfully.

"But most of all, your love and devotion.", Denmark murmured, looking up at the Norge with wide hopeful eyes in vivid shades of cobalt. They were met evenly with a dull stare back.

"Impossible.", Nikolai answered coldly, pulling his arms from the merman to cross them against his chest. Denmark glared back at him balefully, his fins and barbs flexing to bristle in his anger, his tail turning a deeper scarlet to match in mood.

"We're life mates! I'm not asking!", Denmark snarled, shifting upward smoothly to lean heavily against the prince, encircling his arms around angular shoulders.

"You decided that fool, not me!", Nikolai spat, trying to stay composed in the prickly embrace. Hard fingers sharp with claws caught a set jutting chin to make the prince look into wild blue eyes.

"I could make you love me.", Denmark said darkly, bending forward for a kiss. Nikolai looked back at him wide eyed, his usually muted irises brightly ringed with white. Denmark paused in surprise at the vivid reaction, enough so that Nikolai shoved his fist sharply into the side of the merman's jaw, kicking himself away from the sea creature.

Stunned, the merman let the prince go. The Norge had struck him before(many times in fact) but more often that naught, it was more out of a matter of principle not desperation. This time it had actually hurt.

Denmark reared up angrily, tail quipped behind him to find Nikolai crouched down on the other side of the grotto, making himself as small as possible. Denmark forgot his anger in an instant, moving forward concerned. Nikolai moved away from him, avoiding his touch to press himself into the stone of his impromptu prison. He clutched at his ears, blocking them as he refused to even look at the merman. Denmark floated back in a daze, the realization of his grave error hitting him with all the force of whale's tail.

The prince had never shown any fear of him. True, the human reviled him, loathed him, treated him like an idiot, but never for a moment truly feared him which was rare among humans.

Now though…Nikolai was practically cowering before him. It did not sit well with the merman. Denmark started to mouth some sort of reassurance or excuse, his words dying on his lips upon seeing the movements of them made the prince tense up and press his hands tighter to his head.

The merman sunk low to the pale sand, unsure of what to do, feeling oddly helpless, his tail paling to light red in his sudden panic. He crawled forward across the pale ocean floor until he reached the other to try stroking his back with tentative hands. Nikolai cringed under his touch though, curling into himself tighter with a small whimper. Denmark stared at him forlornly, curing his fingers into the depths of his grainy floor, gritting his teeth. He came to a decision, his sinewy body surging forward to carry it out before he changed his mind.

Nikolai struggled frantically as he felt himself bodily picked up. It was hard to fight when one was trying to keep their ears covered. He stopped only upon realizing they were barreling upward toward the surface at an amazing rate, the merman cutting through the water like a knife. The pair broke the chaos mirror of wave and silver moonlight to a clear night sky. Within minutes, Nikolai was placed back on his rock as if he had never left it. Through barely cracked eyelids, he watched Denmark slip silently back into the water without a backward glance. When it was apparent the merman was not going to return, Nikolai slid off of the rock, only shaking slightly until his boots touched the sand. He ran as fast as he could back to his castle.

Nikolai hid himself deep in his towers of stone and mortar far from any window and most of all, the sea itself. He hated himself for hiding but hated the merman even more for threatening him. He had often read terrible tales of the mermaid's call. Of men made to drown themselves on the creatures whim or do far worse things to themselves or others all for the sake of a song. Nikolai knew he would rather be eaten alive than lose his free will. He did berate himself enough though to return to his throne, the ever cold ruler. The kingdom need not suffer for his shortcomings and fear.

Oddly enough, Nikolai started to receive reports of ships being saved in the midst of storms and of sailor being rescued by an unknown source. The most stunning bit of news though was the complete destruction of a pirate ship that had attempted to raid a Norwegian merchant vessel. The weather had been calm and fine as well with only light nourishing rains so that the harvest promised to be a bountiful one this year. Fishermen also reported that their catches had been plentiful if not a little odd(the fish had been singing but tasted fine).

Nikolai sighed upon hearing the latest 'good' news for the eighth week in a row. It seemed like he would have to speak with the merman again after all though the prince decided it would be on his terms this time….at least he hoped.

Arrangements were made in the form of a small cave carved out of the cliffs' side themselves by time and surf, where the sea could enter and leave with the tide, leaving behind a shallow pool of water in the middle of it permanently. Nikolai had often come here as a child to watch the entire process in breathless fascination. It was one of his last hiding spot, the few he still felt safe in.

Dismissing his guards and his courts, the prince made the journey alone, entering the cave. As he waited for the inevitable tide to return, he lit fat storm candles until the hidden space glowed golden with soft light. Stripping down to nothing, Nikolai set his clothes off to the side and knelt down into the pool. He knew his scent would reach the mermaid eventually.

After what seemed like hours, a blonde head broke the surface, the merman coiling himself at the other end of the pool, entering the cave silently. The two stared at each other in awkward silence for a time.

"You kept your word.", Nikolai said softly, daring to speak first as he drew his knees to his chest. He studied the merman, noting that he looked worn with dull scales the color of rust. His whole demeanor seemed lackluster in fact.

"We're allies.", Denmark shrugged, his tone bitter, his words harsh and low. Nikolai flinched slightly from it, making the merman frown deeper and sink lower into the water, turning to obviously leave.

"Wait…", Nikolai said quickly, making himself move closer to the merman. He watched as Denmark took note of his state of undress and the glimpses of pale flesh it offered, the pool's currents the prince's only garb. Nikolai stopped within arm's length of the merman, watching as his barbs and fins furled and unfurled with interest, rich crimson color seeping slowly back into his scales like blood.

"I thought we were more than that.", Nikolai said carefully, making himself sit up straight though he felt like hiding still. He wasn't about to present himself like a whore though. He found Denmark studying him back with an unfathomable expression on his normally expressive face.

"You don't have any clothes on.", the merman said quietly, stating the obvious. The Norge resisted the almost overwhelming urge to roll his eyes at him.

"You said you wanted to see me without them.", he replied simply instead, ignoring the blush that was starting to spread across his cheeks from Denmark's intense scrutiny. The merman moved liquidly smooth to circling the prince slowly.

"Are you scared of me?", Denmark asked, reaching clawed hands to trace lightly over plains of marble like skin, leaving thin red trails in their wake.

"Yes…..", Nikolai answered, not bothering to hide the note of fear in his voice. He knew the merman could already smell it in his scent, taste it in his skin. He continued though, "But it seems like you can keep your word…I will…..trust you not to use your powers to compel me."

Nikolai could feel the merman lean up against his back, their skin flush, the merman's skin cool to the touch. His tongue was searing hot though as he licked drops of salt water off the nape of the Norge's slim neck. The prince was moved gently to straddle Denmark's lap, his long legs gripping on either side of a glittering ruby tail. Fanned fingers traced up and down lean sides, making the prince shiver from the sensations. Denmark smiled from the reaction, letting his hands come to rest on narrow jutting hips to caress little circles into them. The prince moved his arms to clasp their length around the sea creature's broad shoulders, his pale fingers playing with stray locks of wild hair.

"So you will be mine?", Denmark asked softly, touching their forehead together, making the other look up at him. The prince bit his bottom lip in thought, his breathe quickening as curious hands explored further, touching lightly over sensitive areas.

"Within reason.", Nikolai murmured, gasping as his lips and member were caught in different grips, being touched and tasted all at once. His fingers curled into taunt shoulders in pleasure as his moans were swallowed whole by soft lips and tongue.

"I can live with that.", Denmark grinned.


	9. Chapter 9

Romano Vargas grumped as he walked along the path toward his immanent wayward destination in Spain. It wasn't like he wanted to spend an entire summer with his grandfather's old allies, the Spanish royal family Carriedo especially with the oldest son Antonio.

Not. At. All.

Not with his cheery smile that always seemed to be there….or his beautiful green eyes flecked with shimmering hints of gold….his toned expanses of tanned skin warmed by the constant sunshine…..or all the lovely tomatoes that he grew….

Romano growled at himself, kicking at a perfectly innocent stone in his way. Nope….not at all…well maybe for the tomatoes…perfect tomatoes, all red and shiny. Romano could practically smell them. In fact, now that he was thinking about it….he could.

Romano's nose crinkled as he followed the unique alluring scent of tomato plants, his feet leading him down a partially hidden path off to the side of the road. He exited the forest to find a clearing full of tall plants swaying gently in the breeze, heavily loaded with their crimson wealth. It was an entire space devoted to the fruit, surrounded a lone high tower which was ignored(priorities people-tomatoes first, ominous plot devices later). Before he could stop himself(not that he was ever going to or wanted to)Romano started to gorge himself on the glorious crimson globes until he was quite full as a tick on a fat dog. He then took a very long siesta being the experienced thief he was(because leaving the scene of the crime would be too smart). Upon waking up, he ate his fill again.

This blatant cycle of tomato depravity repeated itself until the field was stripped bare.

"Oh well. Dumb bastard should have put up a fence or something if they wanted to keep their tomatoes so badly. They are just lucky I felt so generous to give them such a valuable life lesson.", Romano shrugged as he polished off the last one.

"I don't know about that. Usually the fact that I am a witch keeps people and thieves with any sort of sense for their well being far enough away.", said an amused voice from behind Romano. He whipped around to see a very pretty girl smiling at him sweetly, her long wavy hair held out of her face by a white handkerchief and a pink flower. He also saw the very large frying pan that connected neatly with his forehead.

"Oh Chigi.", Romano managed to mutter before being knocked the fuck out with visions of dancing tomatoes in his head.

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Sometime later…..after certain events involving a ball, some forced cross-dressing, some mice slave labor, and other awkward situations one does not mention in polite company…  
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Two blondes traveled down a very familiar road. The men seemed the most unlikely of traveling companions, being on opposite ends of most spectrums, shared hair color aside.

The taller and longer haired of the two was quite most obviously French, from his long, heavily embroidered frock coat in bright shades of spring to the songs that alighted from his soft lips, a continuously full glass of ruby wine in hand while doing so. When he wasn't singing, the former frog prince, Francis Bonnefoy, talked constantly.

The other man was more slender than the Frenchman, dressed somberly in a neat and far more practical suit in shades of greens and grays with silver spectacles perched on the end of his thin nose. Though he responded to the other's attempts at conversation between blocks of long ramblings, he seemed to prefer to let the Frenchman happily babble, content in reading his book. Eduard Von Bock was an estranged prince with a scholarly air about him who offered little in ways of distraction which was fine. The Frenchman was quite used to conversing with thing that didn't respond. Frogs aren't known for their lyrical ability or sparkling conversation skills despite the best attempts made by filmmakers.

"So why are we going to Spain?", Eduard asked, uninterested in hearing about the shortcoming of the English and the superiority of the French…again.

"Because mon amour! It is so lovely and warm and I have a friend who lives there as well.", Francis explained, quite unaffected by the change in subject. He was met with an odd look from the Baltic though.

"How did you manage that?", Eduard ventured. Francis had spent the last thousand years as an amphibian. That didn't really translate into social butterfly tripping the light fantastic.

"I was a TALKING frog, not a corpse. I got around and Prince Antonio likes cute things.", Francis preened a bit. It fell a little flat though as he watched Eduard raise an eyebrow at him.

"He thought you were cute?", Eduard wondered aloud, a definite look of disbelief on his face. He had been graced with Francis's froggy presence for a few mere minutes before his kiss had changed him back, but from what he remembered it hadn't exactly screamed adorable. Wet, slimy, and a little dank maybe, but not adorable.

"Of course I was cute! I pulled off being a frog very well!", Francis fumed touchily, having long ago accepted denial and all its sparkling benefits.

"Ok, ok, ok, Cute frog. I got it.", Eduard shrugged, waving the other off to return to his book. Francis felt that Eduard was not fully convinced(and rightly so) but was distracted from furthering the argument by some very loud(and bad) singing coming from the woods. Eduard gave Francis a questioning look, the Frenchman shrugging in return. The pair followed the bellowing deep into the woods to find a very peculiar sight.

As they exited the forest into a clearing, the couple saw a lone tower made of pale stone, glittering in the sunlight. The odd thing about the structure was that it seemed to have no doors or entrances of any kind save for one window placed high at the peak of the tower. Eduard frowned at it, wondering what idiotic architect managed to come up with that idea as impractical and as aesthetically pleasing as it may be. Getting new furniture into it must be a real hassle not to mention the ensuing arguments of whose turn it was to empty the bin or walk the dog.

The tower was in the middle of a what had been at one time a very prosperous tomato field. The base of the structure itself seemed to be decorated with the form of a young man strumming on a guitar, apparently serenading the tower, his longing gaze directed at the very empty window at the top. Eduard was about to suggest that they leave the poor man alone who was obviously very busy being insane and a public disturbance all in one. To his surprise(and inner horror), Francis called out a greeting to the guitarist.

"Bonjour Toni!", Francis yelled happily. Eduard didn't know what to be more shocked at-the fact Francis wanted to talk to him, that he actually knew his name, or that he should be surprised at all. The salutation was returned in full with a sunny smile, the failed musician finally leaving off of his unnecessary torture of everything melodic.

"Hola mi amigo!", Antonio said before tilting his head to the side in very obvious thought, "You are looking a bit different now I think."

"I'm not a frog anymore.", Francis supplied helpfully, stating the blatantly obvious.

"Ahhhhhh. That's it. You are taller.", Antonio grinned. Eduard stared at him befuddled, hoping that the man was making a joke of some kind, though it was seeming more and more now he wasn't.

"So what are you doing here? How come you are not on your farm? I was on my way to see you.", Francis asked curiously. Eduard was wondering that himself, but he was also to the point where he wouldn't be surprised in the least if the man admitted he was singing to the tower itself. The unrequited love for an inanimate object seemed well within the Spaniard' s mental grasp.

"I am singing to my sweet Lovi.", Antonio told them, turning to yell up at the tower's window, "Lovi! Come quick! We have guests!"

The window stayed ominously empty though, not any real surprise to Eduard. Antonio did not seem detoured by this though.

"You will love her. Lovi is the sweetest princess ever born and the prettiest you will ever lay eyes on.", Antonio happily babbled. Eduard barely had enough time to pull Francis back as crockery came hurtling down at them, thrown with great force by very irritated looking man dressed oddly enough in a pink maid's outfit. Toni easily sidestepped the missiles like a singing ninja.

"You dumb bastard! Quit telling people that I am a fucking girl!", Romano yelled down at him, "And quit singing! You fucking suck at it!"

"I can see the attraction.", Eduard said flatly as the Italian continued to swear down at them fluidly.

"I know, right!", Antonio grinned, gazing fondly up at Romano who had practically screamed himself hoarse by now.

"He is quite…quite a find. Why is he in a tower that seems to have no doors or other windows though? That is not very practical for l'amour.", Francis ventured, as he watched his friend visibly droop.

"My sweet Lovi has been put up there by a witch.", Antonio lamented, the very picture of dejection and woe.

"A witch! Aren't you afraid she is going to find you here?", Francis asked worriedly. He had had one to many run-ins with witches in the past, the kind that left him with a soggy butt and a diet of winged insects for centuries.

"No. That is her right over there. She likes to watch.", Antonio shrugged, pointing to a partially concealed figure crouched down in the bushes. It appeared to be a woman with long brown hair accented by a pink flower, and green eyes that watched them intently, camera ready in hand. Spain waved to her cheerfully, Francis and Eduard following suit a bit more awkwardly at the total creeper.

"Lovi ate all of her tomatoes, so she put him in the tower to work off his debt as her maid. Lovi is complete shit at it though so he is allowed to leave whenever he wants.", Antonio sighed. The two stared back at him dumbfounded. Francis decided he would have to be the one to ask the obvious.

"So…..why doesn't he?",

"He won't say beyond it has something to do with his hair. I have tried coaxing him out with song but nothing seems to be working. The witch is very excited about it though. She says it will be well worth the wait when he changes his mind.", Antonio wondered, shaking his head sadly.

"Hmmmmm. Hon, hon, hon…", Francis's perverted mind kicking into overdrive as it worked out the finer details from this. Eduard had given up on them all a while back in favor of his book, pointedly ignoring everyone now(which is never wise in the presence of a plotting Frenchman).

"My sweet little captive of love! Tell big brother why you won't come down. I will listen to every word with bated breath.", Francis cooed loudly at the bored looking Italian in the window.

"Will it keep the dumb bastard from singing?", Romano glared, making more tableware ready in hand to fly.

"Oui. You have my most devote and silent attention.", Francis promised, taking a quick moment to relieve Antonio of his guitar. The Spaniard sat down to sulk as the Italian nodded his approval, setting down the coffee cup( who got to live for another day so unlike his other fallen brethren-Learning to live life to the fullest, the coffee cup moved on to take over the entire cupboard, implementing a tough but fair regime upon the other plateware).

"My hair…my curl…is…..sensitive. I don't want other people to see it, much less take pictures….", Romano managed out after some more gentle prods of encouragement.

"If we can stop that will you come down then?", Francis asked, confident his amorous assumption was right and more than willing to test it out.

"…no….."

"But why my sweet little love muffin of joy? I am down here waiting for you.", Francis reminded, ignoring the scoffing sounds of disgust coming from Eduard's direction.

"OH HELL NO!"

Francis frowned in dismay, definitely ignoring the snorts of laughter coming from Eduard's direction. The Frenchman smirked as an idea came to him.

"There will be tomatoes. It seems a shame I will have to eat them all by myself.", Francis called up coyly. Romano froze in tomato want, shivering with delight at the thought of his scarlet love.

"…..Si…but you have to take care of the witch first.", Romano broke down finally. Francis nodded, turned back to his companions, Eduard still ignoring them and Antonio looking very worried.

"Francis you are not planning on fighting the witch are you amigo?", Antonio fretted, his gaze flicking between the Frenchman and the creeper in the bushes.

"Non, non. I am far too pretty for that…..but I will need your help to defeat her.", Francis laughed, shaking his head at the very idea of him doing something so needlessly crass such as fighting. He was a lover and he would simply do what he did best.

"Anything for my Lovi!", Antonio said impassioned, ready to prove his undying love for the Italian. He was slightly confused though when a wide smirk graced the Frenchman's visage.

"I am so glad you said that mon ami….."

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Some sensual time later….  
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"You two can put your clothes back on already. She's out.", Eduard rolled his eyes, checking on the fainted witch lying in a puddle of her own nose blood.

"My sweet Eduard we will have to work on your sense of timing. We were just getting to the best part.", Francis sighed as he shrugged back into his shirt, Antonio wandering about in search of his dearly departed pants. Eduard sniffed dryly in contempt, kneeling down to flip the witch over so she wouldn't drown in her own body fluid. Francis eyed him hungrily, abandoning his attempts of dressing as he crept forward.

"Toni I think you got the rest covered," Francis muttered, getting the sudden urge to do it in the woods with a presently unaware Estonian, who was about to get some splinters in an unusual place. Antonio grinned as he watched the pair disappear into the foliage for the time being with minimal fuss. The Spaniard moved to the base of the tower, looking expectantly up at it.

"Romano! Romano! Let down your curl!", Antonio yelled, watching as the Italian did a quick look around to find the field absent of all lookieloos of the perverted kind(being either otherwise occupied or passed out). Scowling, Romano gathered up the overly long loopy lengths of his hair, the strand thin but strong, as he braced it against some furniture so it would not pull painfully. He didn't need any other sensations bothering him right now. He was going to have enough problems soon enough, and a headache was one he could easily avoid.

Antonio watched as a curl gracefully spiraled downward, its shimmering bronze tip just touching the ground. Bracing himself with his feet, Antonio began to climb the tower. The higher he got up and closer to the window, the more he became aware of some very odd noises, moans starting to punctuate the air frequently. Antonio made himself climb up faster, fearing he was hurting his beloved though the noises didn't exactly sound pain filled. If anything they were a bit…..lusty? Antonio paused in his ascent to listen intently, his eyebrows shooting up at a particularly loud groan of pure wanton need followed with pants of immanent release.

"Lovi wait for me!", Antonio gulped, his mouth going suddenly very dry as he was presented with some excellent motivation to move his ass. He cleared the window to find Romano squalled out on the floor trembling, his problem very obviously tenting his dress and leaving a moist patch in its quake on the pink fabric. Romano leaned up on his elbows to glare at the stunned Spaniard.

"It took you long enough bastard. What the hell where you doing? Sightseeing?", Romano managed to snap out between pants, his tanned cheeks a dusky shade of red.

"So sorry Lovi for keeping you waiting. Let me make it up to you.", Antonio purred in a husky tone, his hand lifting the hem of the dress up past smooth parted thighs already slick of droplets of precum.

"Chigi."

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Meanwhile elsewhere, our heroes(?)….plot victims…..were making their way back from Norway having successfully completed their mission there….kinda….with the power of awesome.  
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The Company Beilschmidt had just entered the country of Poland and were debating among themselves if they should make camp by a pristine lake or attempt to locate a nearby town instead. They were interrupted though by the most peculiar of songs.

"I'm a barbie girl, in the barbie world! Life in plastic, it's fantastic! You can brush my hair, undress me everywhere! Imagination, life is your creation!

Come on Barbie! Let's go party! Ah-ah-ah-Yeah!  
Come on Barbie! Let's go party! Uuuu-oh-u!"

"What in the sweet bleeding hell is that?", Arthur grimaced, already rubbing his temples lightly in the prospect of a coming headache.

"I don't know but someone make it stop.", Gilbert growled, drawing his swords(both of which were named Fritz). It wasn't helping matters that Feliciano was dancing along to the horrendously poppy song though it was doing odd things to Ludwig. Alfred, being the hero he was in light of this new menace(though he didn't see what the big deal was-he kinda liked it), pushed through the pond's tall reeds and cattails to find a glittering swan(no, it was actually glittering, the bird was strangely covered in what appeared to be hot pink glitter gel from graceful head to feathered tip). The bellowing swan seemed to be dancing as well, a weird shuffling dance of flapping wings and head bobs. It ceased its dance(aka intentional seizure) to stare up at Alfred with large green eyes.

"Rude much! I was totally getting to the best part!", the swan hissed, tossing its diva head.

"It's cool guys! Just a talking animal!", Alfred yelled back, practically in Matthew's face, the American just now noticing his twin behind him.

"Thanks Al. We figured that out for ourselves.", Matthew muttered dryly, leaning over a bit to study the swan, "It appears to be a level 5 waterfowl enchantment. Excuse me, can you tell us who you are and how you came to be this way?"

"Wow! You are so totally lame. I know you are not speaking to me with those words like that. Bored now.", the swan yawned overly wide, paddling his wide webbed feet away from them.

"Awwww c'mon! Don't be like that! I wanted to know what you were singing!", Alfred pouted. The swan paused to regard the American with new sudden interest.

"Wasn't it like totally fab?! It's like my swan song!", the bird preened proudly. Matthew frowned thoughtfully down at the fowl.

"I always thought swans only sang those when they were dying.", Matthew commented.

"One can only hope.", the twins heard Arthur mutter darkly.

"OMG, I know right!? But I'm like totally wiggin! My heart is like broken, like for realsies!" the swan sniffled dramatically, throwing a wing up for good measure.

"ZOMG! For realsies!? Like why?!", Alfred gasped, to the others' horror. Arthur face palmed while Matthew briefly considered drowning his twin for the sake of the group's future sanity.

"I was like totally cursed and some junk by this gnarly Russian prince who like stole my boyfriend Toris! He was like so jealous of our love!", the swan bitched, Alfred nodding the entire time, missing some very familiar names and references. Matthew exchanged several significant looks with Arthur and Ludwig. They did not want to meet up with the Russian prince Ivan or his family again for any reason especially if they were not getting paid.

"Shut up!", Alfred gasped, completely oblivious to the atmosphere as per usual, his focus entirely on the swan.

"I know right?! It is like wicked drama! So here I am singing my swan song. Do you like have any idea now totally lame it is to be a swan? No manis and feathers everywhere! Can we say fashion nightmare!? I feel so last season!", the swan lamented.

"We can like totally help you!", Alfred said brightly, ignoring the others who were frantically motioning him to stop talking.

"Like really?", the swan looked up hopefully.

"Totally. That's what we do! We will so find your prince and break your curse!", Alfred promised confidently, striking a heroic pose. It didn't faze the swan though who returned its own fabulous version of it.

"OMFG, you are like the besties! Btw, I am Feliks! We are so BFs now!", Feliks the swan and transformed prince of Poland gushed.

"Totally BFFs!" Alfred grinned.

"Oh maple.", Matthew sighed in disgust.


	10. Chapter 10

"All I'm saying is why the hell can't we take jobs someplace warm? I'm freezing my nuts and berries off here, dude!", Alfred complained long and loud as the companions trudged through the deep snows of a Swedish field under a low drowsy sun.

"We go where the work takes us Jones.", Ludwig grumbled, not enjoying the trek through Sweden's rough terrain either. It seemed he kept personally finding every damn hidden rabbit hole of neck breaking under the thick white blanket of snow. With this kind of coverage it forced them to lead the horses instead of riding them to their destination, making their progress arduously slow and a certain American's complaints more frequent. The German felt the bone gnawing cold as bitterly as everyone else but still deemed it that he had to set an example as leader.

"So why can't 'das work' be in Spain or Italy and not the butt ass end of the freaking moon?", Alfred asked lightly mocking the German's heavy accent as he shivered under his many layers, "This was so not part of your sales pitch for this job in the bar."

"Quite your bitching Arschloch. We promised you would get to travel the world, meet interesting monsters, and then get to kill said interesting monsters. We didn't mention anything about the damn weather.", Gilbert smirked nastily, not enjoying the cold either but found Alfred's obvious discomfort amusing.

"I think it's nice.", Matthew said cheerfully, perhaps the only member of the party who actually loved this type of climate, thrived in it. He breathed in the brisk air deeply with a sigh of contentment.

"That is because you are a frigging Canadian and live in igloos and eat beaver and shit.", Alfred grumbled, glaring at his jubilant twin. He squealed like a little girl when a snowball hit the side of his head, the remnants of it going instantly down his collar like all vengeful snowballs do.

"Lies. All lies. We do not.", Matthew grinned. He loved the cold weather. It made him feel nostalgic for his homelands of tundra and wild wood. It also gave him a rare opportunity to feel superior to his brother who was still fussing at him over the icy assault. Alfred basically shut down in cold weather while he flourished, becoming energetic and even a little cocky. Nothing like minus zero to bring out the smug bastard in one's own self.

"Ve~ I agree with Alfredo. Can we go somewhere nice soon? Somewhere with lots of pasta?", Feliciano whined, pressing his full lips to Ludwig's chilly ear, essentially igniting it with an instant fiery blush. The petite Italian was riding piggy back on his favorite German, his slender frame wrapped around his very self-conscious steed. After face planting repeatedly in the snow, Ludwig had deemed it necessary to carry the klutzy man if the party was going to make it to the town before nightfall. Despite already being flush to the muscular body that bore his weight easily, Feliciano somehow managed to snuggle up closer to it. Ludwig found his unknown calling in life by being the ultimate space heater powered by crushing embarrassment, constant Italian molestation, and raw, barely contained lust.

"The idiot's right. This Scheiße sucks.", Gilbert added his own two cents, made more bitter by the pair because his Canadian was a snow bunny, not a cuddler like his twin. Alfred wasn't too picky it seemed who he got body heat from either. He had tried to obtain it through Arthur, but had received a smack from the prickly Englishman for his efforts. Apparently, the former prince drew the line as being carried around. Part of him was regretting that now though as Arthur sunk thigh deep into a hidden pocket of snow again. He shot a glare at the swan prince who was currently stuffed in Alfred's coat, his sparkly head only peeking out.

"Like stop wiggin'. It's like not that bad.", Feliks yawned, quite cozy in his neck of the woods. Arthur seethed at the intruder, trying(and failing miserably) not to be jealous of the bedazzled water fowl.

"Belt up! You don't get a vote.", Arthur snapped, freeing himself from the clutches of the white deep once again to stumble forward.

"Like harsh dude. Don't be angry cause you can't be as totally fabulous as me or figure out the working end of a tweezers. Stress like that will like totally give you wrinkles. Well, more of them anyway.", the swan said in a bored tone of like totally not caring cause you are like so lame.

"What in the blazes are you suggesting?", Arthur yelled, turning on Swan Prince with a vengeance. Alfred threw up his hands quickly in defense, caught in the line of royal fire.

"Suggesting? Like as if.", Feliks rolled his eyes overly dramatic, "Says the man who can't even dress himself properly. A cloak? Like for realsies? Like totally gag me. Sooooooo last century. Get back to me when you have like discovered zippers and then we'll talk.", " Feliks sighed heavily as if the whole conversation was a trial upon his life. Arthur sputtered out bits of rage as he lunged at the swan that took off as Alfred ran away from him. The Englishman found himself caught mid waist by a cheeky Canadian feeling high on life(and cold weather)to be tossed over Matthew's shoulder fireman style. Arthur flailed against him, kneeing and punching at his captor to no real effect. He was popped in the ass sharply for his efforts.

"That's enough of that, eh. No killing the client.", Matthew grinned openly, the bright expression strange looking on the normally docile Canadian's face. It made him look more like his twin.

"Mattie! That wasn't nice. Don't touch my piece of ass like that.", Alfred pouted, returning to pat the still stinging part of the Englishman's lower anatomy.

"Would everyone quit touching my bum!", Arthur yelled, red faced in anger with a healthy dose of humiliated discomfiture, " And put me down already!"

"No. This is quicker.", Matthew said lightly, giggling to himself as he practically skipped through the snow in glee. Kumajirou ran along side him, enjoying himself greatly as well to occasionally snap at the dangling Englishman in play.

"He is a freak of nature, I swear.", Alfred shook his head, looking down at his own passenger, "You should apologize to him."

"Oh for the love of Madonna, what do you want from me? Blood?", the swan flopped against him, totally put out by the request.

"That would be nice.", Arthur glowered from his upside down position, trying to make the best of it. At least he wasn't sinking into any more holes.

"Hater. Totally a hater. I always knew it would be a burden to be this fabulous.", Feliks sighed dramatically. Alfred patted the swan's head in an attempt at comfort only to have his fingers nibbled at.

"Like watch the feathers. Air pets only homeskillet. It like takes too long to get this damn pretty.", Feliks hissed, fluffing up exaggeratedly. Alfred mumbled out an apology as he carefully resumed his air pets.

"Don't baby him, git!", Arthur yelled, hexes to cast later upon the glittering water fowl already running through his head.

"But he's like cursed and totally sad, boo!", Alfred said defensively, letting his valley show. The group stopped as a whole to glare at the American.

"Cease and desist! Alfred F. Jones do not even think about talking like that again. Do not make me punish you. I will do it happily.", Arthur stated firmly in a cool clear voice of violent intent.

"I'll be good.", Alfred said quickly, remembering the marmite. Feliciano started to cry for him, recalling it vividly as well. Ludwig sighed, reaching over his shoulder to pat at auburn locks awkwardly.

"We will go visit Rome and grandfather when this is over.", Ludwig told him. They needed to update the old Italian about their lack of progress in locating his missing grandchild and Feliciano's twin, Romano. Ludwig had made of point of asking about him whenever they paused in civilization. So far, there had been no leads to the missing Italian's whereabouts. Thankfully, Feliciano didn't seem too upset about it though, as far as he could tell anyway.

Ludwig breathed a deep sigh of relief as the tip tops of the town's roofs started to crest their view. Finally, they would get something done now and he wouldn't have to think about this sore topic anymore….for a little while as least.

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Ludwig, Arthur, and Matthew spoke with the town's leaders in their meeting hall which also turned out to be the town's tavern as well thankfully. It was overly warm and filled with too many scared people, but there was beer and food so the others sat back to wait impatiently for their task.

"I don't know why they get to do that. I can negotiate just fine.", Alfred complained, pouting as he laid his head on top of the table.

"Shut up. You can't speak anything other than idiot.", Gilbert sighed, glaring at his beer, feeling a touch bitter about being left out himself. Between the leading three of them, their linguistic skills covered most of Europe. The remaining three left a lot to be desired in that area. Gilbert claimed to speak Prussian which sounded an awfully like German to everyone else. Feliciano spoke Italian and possibly Cat, if his numerous conversation with felines were any real proof. Alfred only spoke American which was English with poor grammar and other language's words thrown in for flavor.

"Ve~ What is Doitsu talking about with those big scary men?", Feliciano asked worriedly around a big mouthful of food before washing it down with a gulp of ice wine. The Italian happily accepted his place at the kid's table(or anywhere for that matter) as long as he was fed. The fermented herring and boiled potatoes served with lingonberry jam was not as delicious as pasta but the ice wine was like summer in a bottle, all delightful sweetness with scented tastes of peaches and apricots.

"They are getting our assignment. The reason we are here…", Gilbert drawled out slowly for the Italian, "The reason we have been riding for days in the fucking cold and snow. That reason. What did you think we were doing here? Sight seeing?". The Italian stared back at him blankly.

"It is very pretty.", Feliciano shrugged, looking as confused as usual.

"Dumbass.", Gilbert muttered, distracting himself by watching Matthew. Ludwig and Arthur did most of the talking, the Canadian adding suggestions and reminders only ever so often. He did add a certain gravitous to the group with his eloquent presence though. A tall blonde dressed all in white holding a polar bear will tend to do that. The Prussian leaned on his arms, enjoying the view while visualizing what lay beneath those layers of soft white fur and leather. He was annoyed into paying attention to his dinner companions as Feliks poked his head out of Alfred's jacket.

"Like this is so boring! When do we get to do something?", the swan whined, nibbling at Alfred's hair in irritation with his beak.

"Hey there! Watch Nantucket!", Alfred yelped, shoving the talking animal's head back in his coat. They had decided to keep their odd client out of public view for various reasons, "Soon! They called us. We didn't come looking for work. That means they're desperate."

"Ja…no one likes calling us. We are a last resort when it all goes to Sheisse.", Gilbert sniffed, having a low opinion of most town's people in general. If the idiots would just contact them at the first signs of trouble, most situations could be resolved with little to no problems, but nein. Villagers had to wait until people got turned into goats or birds, children got kidnapped by pipers and witches, or some dipshit's hand got stuck to a goose's ass(it happened more often that you would think).

"But it's still cool cause we get to be heroes!", Alfred told the swan happily. Gilbert grunted noncommittally to that comment. It was certainly better than shoveling pig shit or milking cows. Better pay too but it was just a job. Nothing more, nothing less. People tended to view them as scum while at the same time begged for their help. It looked like this meeting was of no exception, the village's leaders and people regarding them all with an odd mixture of distaste, anxiety, and hope.

Gilbert sipped at his beer, ignoring them all in favor of directing his gaze back to linger on Matthew. The job definitely had some perks though, some very awesome perks. The Canadian felt the ruby stare on him again from across the room, shooting the Prussian a small smile and a subtle hand signal before turning his attention back to the proceedings.

"Danke Gott! They're almost done. Finish your food flake and get your game face on Jones. We are about to get down and dirty."

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"Why can't we ever go anywhere nice?", Alfred proposed again bitterly, trudging through more snow, dragging his sword petulantly behind him. The woods were too thick for the horses so the company was navigating through the elements on foot once again.

"Hush! We are supposed to be stealthy, you twit!", Arthur snapped at him in quiet tones.

"Like why?", Feliks asked popping his head out to speak overly loud.

"Why did we have to bring him? Someone remind me before I go round the bend.", Arthur growled, wanting to straggle the swan, his slender fingers itching to wrap their lengths around that slim neck.

"Because he is a client and we are responsible for his safety.", Matthew sighed softly. He found the swan just as irritating.

"And the hicks might think he lays golden eggs or something so we couldn't leave him.", Gilbert sneezed, bored already by all the un-awesomeness. Bring on the monsters. He hated all this sneaking around bull shit.

"Everyone shut the hell up!", Ludwig growled, managing to keep it to a dull roar. Between stopping Feliciano from singing and Alfred's and Gilbert's constant bickering over who was more awesome, his patience had dwindled down to his last damn nerve. The added bonus of a talking swan was starting to tap-dance on it. The German called a halt in an effort to regroup mentally.

"Pay attention! Arthur and ….um…..him(pointing to Matthew who rolled his eyes back at him, not really surprised) will scout out ahead. We will stay here and be quiet until they can establish the whereabouts of this beast.", Ludwig ordered. They had been hired to seek out and rid the woods surrounding the town of a beast who tended to make his presence known during the very heart of winter when the days were at their shortest. The villagers claimed they would hear strange sounds coming from the forest and smell blood on the wind from it. No one dared to enter the wood during this time of year, not even the bravest of hunters.

They had also been charged with finding a fair maiden who seemed to have fallen into the beast's clutches. A pale woman with short platinum hair had been seen from time to time in the presence of a great hulking figure that never left her side.

Typical destroy and rescue job really. Ludwig didn't see any problems arising from it, their greater numbers and skill giving them a definite advantage but it never hurt to be overly cautious. The only real issue was that the beast's lair was very deep in the wood, supposedly in the remains of an ancient castle. The villagers had not been very forthcoming about its location though due to lack of willing guides.

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Arthur and Matthew departed without a sound, returning within an hour to lead the others to a fort of some kind.

It was hardly a castle or at least a design that they recognized for one. A low rectangular building sat low in the ground, nestled in between ancient spruces and pines. It was obviously old but very well built and sturdy looking, made of earth and thick logs. Strange writing decorated its exterior and around its entrance way as smoke puffed out of an opening in its roof. It looked more like a long house or hunting lodge than a castle.

"Is this the right place?", Ludwig asked doubtfully.

"Of course it is! Follow us!", Arthur snapped, offended. The tracking skills and stealth of England were unmatched(at least in his own mind). The group pressed through the cover of the woods, rounding the structure to find old crumbling stone markers tangled in with evergreen growth. Against all reason, a single rose bloomed in the midst of the wide green foliage, full and fragrant like a velvet drop of ruby blood against a bed of thorny emeralds. It gave off a faint glow in the dull, forest shaded light.

"Well that's not right.", Alfred helpfully stated the obvious.

"Ja, no shit Arschloch.", Gilbert spat out, drawing his swords. Part of their mission was to make fertilizer out of this rose. They had been told that the plant was the rumored source of the beast's power and life. In his line of work, glowing plants were usually pretty bad and needed to be treated with extreme and very violent prejudice.

Before plant homicide could occur though, a moving shadow loomed over them all, followed by the more tangible flash of steel. Gilbert parried the crashed blow easily enough, tucking into a swift back roll to gain him some distance from his attacker.

It was a man, a very tall man in fact. One that dwarfed even Ludwig's and the twin's impressive heights. His hair was close cropped and pale blond, almost flaxen in color. He had high sharp cheekbones and a strong square jaw, bare of any scruff. His eyes were a striking blue green, polished cold stones more often found at sea than set in a face. Starling in their intense color alone, it was the severity found in those orbs that set him apart from mere mortals. The man's expression was force unto itself, a glare of truly impressive measure. It was grave and downright frightening, sending a slight chill up everyone's spine despite their resolve and training.

The man was dressed in heavy dark clothing dyed in shades of blues, a woven cloak belted at his tapered waist by a rough braided cord. The garb was almost religious in its simple design. The sword he wielded was not though. It was a long shining blade, monstrous in length and width enough so that even Ludwig doubted he be able to handle it, much less hold it up for any measure of time like this warrior was doing. The strange writing that was on the house graced the sword as well, running from hilt to tip.

The strange warrior faced them calmly, his sword held steady with his broad back to the garden, obviously ready to defend it. The team surrounded him, prepared to spring on Ludwig's signal at a moment's notice.

"STOP!", a high voice called out, "Leave him alone!"

No one moved as a small man practically tumbled out of the woods in his efforts to get between them and the silent guardian. The newcomer had fairer hair than the other, almost a metallic ivory in color and short in length. His features were soft and sweet, almost cherubic in nature. His effeminate features surrounded large, doe like eyes a strange shade of bright lavender and full soft lips. His form was delicate, almost feminine in shape with lean muscles and slender limbs. The robe he wore accentuated this, the snowy white garment clinging to all the right places, cinched at his waist and lower hips with a pale blue beaded sash.

"Who are you?! Who sent you?!", the man dressed in white demanded, his blue clad companion still having not said a word in offense or defense. His accent was odd as his eyes flashed openly with challenging anger. Ludwig had to give him credit for spunk despite the situation. His company were literally outnumbered the pair three to one, but they still stood firm before them. This made them incredibly brave, stupid, or confident in their own abilities, all of which were bad in their own way.

Ludwig signaled for the others to hold as he stepped forward, lowering his weapon slowly. The giant's eyes narrowed in warning, but he stayed in his stance, his sword point never wavering. The German's icy blue eyes lingered over their papal like garments and their general lack of monster-ness…well at least for the shorter man. The larger one was still on the 'maybe' category. That glare certainly didn't seem human.

"We were sent by the villagers, the ones just outside the woods….", Ludwig started, cut off by a loud sound of disgust.

"Those ignorant scum!", the smaller man swore, suddenly looking less calm as he spit his contempt onto the ground, looking ready to kill something now.

"T'no…", the giant rumbled out softly. Ludwig looked up at him surprise. He had been wondering he could talk. The being thus named Tino stomped his foot childishly to argue with larger man.

"No Ber! You know I'm right! They are always doing this to us! It's not right!", Tino snapped irritably before turning back to their company, "You are fools for coming here. It is not what you think."

"We have no feud with you or yours. We are here for a beast and a maiden in distress.", Ludwig supplied, waving the others to back off. Caution was a hunter's constant companion but so was intense observation. That and Ludwig's gut was telling him that these two were not a threat, to them at least. Tino looked less that amused as his face fell into a mixture of rage and disbelief.

"Damn it to Hel! They are calling me a girl now!", Tino cursed, balling his small fists to his side. He stomped up to the giant, ignoring the chilling aura the other was emitting to point his finger into his face or just about due to the severe height difference. "This is all your fault!"

To everyone's shocked surprise, the scary man's expression seemed to soften as a small smile graced his stony features.

"You might as well come with us. We'll explain everything and why this is a complete waste of both our times.", Tino growled, stalking off huffily toward the longhouse without a backward glance.

"Who are you?", Ludwig asked curiously, sheathing his own weapon, gesturing the others to do so as well. The giant mirrored the peaceful gesture, still watching them intently.

"B'rw'ld. I'm yaw b'ast.", Berwald told him in his gravely deep voice, heavy with accent.

"And the midget?", Gilbert sniffed, jerking a thumb toward Tino's retreating form.

"He's ma w'fe."

Ludwig suddenly had a very bad feeling that this cakewalk assignment was about to get horribly complicated.

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Upon entering the ancient longhouse, the company found it surprisingly warm and inviting inside despite its rough outward appearance. The interior gleamed with honey gold woodwork that practically glowed from its polished perfection from the huge circular fireplace in the middle of the wide open room. The effect was heightened by the whitewashed floors and soothing blue tile work, sparkling with cleanliness. Thick furs and soft cushions thrown over heavy, well made furniture completed the scene. The team settled in with horn cups filled with warm spiced mead served with dark bread, glistening with sweet cream butter.

"This is all quite lovely but what is going on?", Arthur asked, accepting the drink graciously from Tino. He would have preferred tea or something stronger and more scotch like, but good breeding made him go through the motions of politeness.

Ludwig nodded, sipping courteously at the sweet beverage as well, wishing it was beer, "Ja, who are you?" The others were not so cultured unfortunately.

Gilbert only drank it because it was hot, wearing a look of disgust on his face the entire time, and Feliciano was already telling their hosts about the glories of wine and all its benefits. The small Italian was also trying to wipe out the bread while doing so but Alfred was given him a good run for his money, the tall American's cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's with food and drink. Feliks turned up his beak completely, sticking with crusts of bread and snide remarks. Matthew forgoed it all together, choosing instead to study all the intricately carved detailing in the furniture and mantle.

After everyone was situated for better or worse, their strange hosts sat beside each other, Berwald's arm looped firmly around Tino's waist as if he expected one of them to make off with his 'wife'. Tino took it in stride with only a slight roll of his eyes, obviously quite used to that sort of treatment.

"This is Berwald Oxenstierna of the Bear Clan, whose people laid claim to the land of Sweden as their own.", Tino introduced, " I am Tino Väinämöinen…."

"Holy shit! Was that even English?", Alfred interrupted, having managed to swallow all of his foraged food without choking miraculously.

"No, It's Finnish.", Tino chuckled.

"Charmed, but tell us…Why is a snow elf living this far from home and with an enchanted mortal with a magic sword of all things?", Arthur smiled slyly, the others turning to stare at the fae, who was blushing now from all the sudden attention.

Gilbert grunted in appreciation, having not caught onto that. "Guess Eyebrows is good for something.", he thought, making a face at the mulled honey wine. Who did he have to screw around here to get some damn beer?

Tino fidgeted a bit, under the question. The Fin had been hoping to avoid telling the strangers their full story. It was kind of embarrassing. "I thought you might have the sight….it's a long story…" Tino sighed. Berwald shot a glare at Arthur, noticing his 'wife's discomfort. The Englishman managed to meet it without cringing too much as others shifted uneasily.

"Mein Gott! Here we go!", Gilbert complained, breaking the tension suddenly by flopping back in his chair, "Let me guess! Your both princes or something and you're both cursed! It's always got to be royalty! You'd think those dumb bastards would stop pissing off people who could turn them into frogs but nooooo." The albino was met with confused looks from both of Nords and many irritated looks from his own companions(one of them being former royalty and cursed).

"Please forgive the interruption and continue. He's an idiot.", Matthew intercepted smoothly, pointedly ignoring the Prussian's protests on the matter.

"Berwald is….was a Viking and the son of a chieftain….I don't know if that counts, but I'm just a harpist from the Frost Fox tribe.", Tino started again to no good avail it would seem, " No princes here…"

"Expect for me!", said a high childish voice from the rafters.

"I knew it.", Gilbert grumbled bitterly as everyone else looked up in surprise to see a small blonde who looked no more that twelve years old leap from his high perch. He performed a series of rather impressive and very unnecessary flips to softly land among them.

"Oh, this is….", Tino started valiantly once again.

"I am Peter Kirkland, the lost and last prince of Britannia!", the odd adolescent stated grandly. The company gaped openly at him. It was like seeing Arthur in miniature, right down to the bushy eyebrows with the exception of bright blue eyes for green ones. The preteen was dressed neatly in a suit of blue and white, a noticeably nautical theme to it. Gilbert and Alfred promptly took it upon themselves to fall over laughing(quite loudly), while Arthur grew a certain shade of anger red, the hue of it usually reserved for tomatoes and other fruit.

"Hardly you little prat! I assure you that that is not the case!", Arthur fumed, trying desperately to figure out how this annoyance was related to him if at all.

"Yes, yes. I know you are all in shock at my greatness. I tend to do that. I AM very impressive.", Peter preened, oblivious to the swirl of dark waves being emitted by the Englishman.

"Of all the …..! Now see here you little shite! You are not the last prince! You are certainly lost but not the last!", Arthur snapped at the boy, pinning him with an acid glare. To his surprise, he was met evenly with a pompous blue stare.

"How dare you peasant! When I come into my kingdom, I will see you punished. Thrown into the dungeons to rot I think or hung up by your thumbs.", Peter sniffed haughtily.

"Yup, he's related.", Alfred managed out, before returning to bouts of laughter. Arthur's jaw dropped, his fists clenched at his side in barely contained rage.

"P-peasant!? Peasant! Y-y-y…..I am the crown prince of Britannia and of the true blood, so sit your narrow arse down and shut it!", Arthur roared, looming over the kid, who stared up at him in disbelief.

"You!? You can't be!", Peter yelled back defiantly.

"And why not?!", Arthur snarled, ready to throttle the kid within an inch of his life. He was met with a look of total and utter distain.

"You're so plain and stupid looking. There is simply no way you are related to the likes of me. How dare you claim to be of my prodigious bloodline.", Peter scoffed. Arthur looked ready to smite something.

"I am the damn bloodline, twat! First off, you are claiming to be related to me, not the other way around. Secondly, I have the crest ring of Britannia worn only by its princes as well as the royal talisman which can only be worn by members of the immediate ruling family. What have you got, prat!?", Arthur spat out, producing the gleaming pieces of jewelry for appraisal.

"Those look new. Obviously fake.", Peter shrugged, unimpressed at he pulled out his own talisman, a worn piece of inscribed gold faded by time and handling.

"More like preserved.", Gilbert snickered rudely.

"Bloody hell! Now see here you insufferable…."

"Like oh my god! We totally get it! You're super old and you're super annoying! So bored now. Moving on!", Feliks cut through the argument with a mighty flapping of white wings, spraying everyone in the room with hot pink sparkles.

"But!"

"But!"

"Like NO! Not doing this! Way too much groddy eyebrow hair for us to handle! Like if you two don't stop wiggin out, I will totally break your arm with my wing. I'm like a swan. We can do that, like for real.", Feliks hissed, "I want to hear about the two love bugs even if one is like totally a major creeper. While we are on that for a hot minute-Hey tall, handsome, and scary looking! Like lighten up. You are like totally bumming us out here!"

Berwald blinked in surprise, partially because Feliks was being so straightforward with him, when others usually ended up just mumbling and wandering off. That and the fact a swan was berating him…..a very sparkly swan who was getting glitter on everything. He was going to be finding the stuff was months afterward.

"L'ke ma w'fe sa'd. 't's a long story.", Berwald mumbled out, watching Peter and Arthur pull faces at each other.

"Like wow. We are so totally having Tino tell us this. Like enunciate much?", Feliks rolled his eyes, gesturing with a wing at Tino, who shrugged.

"This is an old story…."

"Like we get that! Just tell it already. It's either that or listen to those two totally bitch and I am way too pretty to be dealing with all that hot mess."

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Berwald came to these shores with his people, brought on tides of surf and spray in long wooden boats. They were Vikings who ruled by right of might, brutal beings clad in leather and bone, conquering with iron blades and will. They landed here of all places, looking for respite from a storm at sea to find that this wood had fallen into evil.

Warped beings, dark and twisted, had opened a gateway to tear between this world and the next. They sought to drag life back through its obscene door kicking and screaming. In their absolute hate for all living things, it sought total destruction.

It killed the plants. The trees fought back though. In those days, spruce and pine could still move and talk freely. It drowned them in earth, locking it away with soil and root.

It sought to eat all the animals. The weaker ones fell, but there was resistance among bear, wolf, and fox. They were aided by crow and owl as well. Tooth and claw drew black blood and rendered flesh cold. The ravens did their part as well, collecting secrets from eyes and plucking memories for exposed brain matter.

It tried to destroy the land and the land fought back. It called man to its shore though they did not know it.

The Vikings were unprepared for this war shoved upon them in desperation but they fought. Brave men, giants with golden hair and eyes the color of sky and sea, stood against the darkness not because they had to. They could have run, sailed away to clearer coasts. They fought not for honor or treasure. They fought because they were impelled to, the wrongness of their enemies enough for them to force back the horrid night, back to beyond the borders of this world and the next for the good of all. The sacrifice of few to save the many.

They fought with iron.

They fought with flint and fire.

They fought with old magic learned from the blue lips of hanged men on trees, who existed between the gray borderlands of life and death.

With blood, rune, and blade, the noble dead pushed back the foul night from whence it came to seal it with bloom, thorn, and stone.

The deed was done with the remaining survivors being few in number. The price had been ever so great upon them. From the ravens, they learned that such things promised to return as sure as the seasons though.

It was decided that someone would have stay at the gateway, to keep it sealed until the end of time and fight the darkness if it should ever return. It would be a burden to carry with them always, a duty to fulfill with no end, and a fate some would view worse than death. A sword of unparallel power was forged to aid in this task, a blade that could only be wielded by the keeper for the Thorn's rose, the flower that bound the stone gateway shut with an enchantment as delicate as spider's silk but strong as diamond.

Of all that remained, one volunteered to stand alone though he was begged not to, being the son of the chieftain and future leader of the clan. His will was strong and his mind remained unchanged in the matter despite opposition of his men.

The son of the Bear Clan was bonded to the stones of the gate, his crimson essence the contract between this world and him to be its champion.

Berwald Oxenstierna was left to stand sentinel alone on the edge of infinity, a single eternal guard to fight the coming of endless night.

His sacrifice became story and his story became legend, but like all tales, it was turned and twisted in the winds of time until it was lost completely, forgotten from the minds of men.

The immortal warrior was abandoned, all alone in the never-ending twilight of the world's winter with only shadow and starlight as his constant companions.

But even in the shimmering cold of snow and frost, winter has spring to look forward to…

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Even for the endless, time manages to make its mark upon them. Patterns emerge over the course of decades, even centuries. Rituals become habit and habits become an immediate part of that person, defining that being as clearly as hair or eye color would.

Berwald kept a custom, one he performed every year without fail or exception. During the winter in the longest hours of dark, the old Viking would have to stand alert and ever vigilant. Sometimes he fought the beings who attempted to escape from their captivity. Sometimes he fought ignorant humans who were trying to get in for whatever reason. Most of the time though, he just waited.

Berwald waited for the coming of spring and then finally summer when the sun was at its pinnacle. He left his post then and only then, the gate closed to all during the summer solstice even to the likes of its own keeper. During this brief respite, Berwald traveled to the sea as was his want to do so, paying homage to the fallen as he had for uncounted centuries. He didn't know if his offerings and prayers were heard by the old dead but it gave him some sort of comfort, if not just in the familiar act itself.

One year though, something unexpected happened….

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Berwald walked down the pale strip of beach barefoot, staring out onto the chilly waves that never could keep the touch of sun in them as they lapped white frothed tongues hungrily against the sodden grains of sand. He had already made his tithe to it, giving the endless water his words and blood. He no longer shed any tears to it though. Berwald had not for a very long time now.

The raw pain of lost family and friends had faded to a dull throb to eventual nothingness. It felt like his soul was just ash now, carried around in the hollow of his body.

Berwald didn't cry.

He didn't laugh.

He didn't really feel anything anymore…

There was only his task and all it needed from him was to be.

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

Berwald walked the shoreline simply because he had done so before countless time, a path as familiar to him as his own being. He realized he had only heard the music because his body had lurched to a stop at some point in acknowledgment of it. It had been a long while since he had heard music other than the songs of birds and wind.

The sweet notes were faint, carried to him on the trailing fingertips of the salty ocean breeze. Like a scent to a bloodhound, Berwald followed it, going farther up the beach than he had ever gone before, drawn to the music by not only its sweetness but also by its aching sadness, each plucked noise a wound of the heart. It was like bitter honey of the spirit, light and coiling sweet with a bite of bitter sorrow. It was moving in it simplicity yet complex in it severity.

It made him curious.

It made the ash inside him shift and swirl, become warm again as it set fire to his soul.

It made him…

….feel.

Feelings made him hurt, a kind of hurt similar to a muscle that had not been used in a long while. It tingled and burned within him. Berwald frowned at the strange sensations as he moved quickly toward the source of it. If anything, to make it stop.

Or at the least make whoever play something happier. The piercing symphony was raw with bleak emotions, its musician's mental state skillfully bleeding through each bar emitted.

It seemed to be seeping from a cluster of high stones, weathered nearly white by elements and sun, set deep in the moist sand to connect the sea to the land. It was like a cave with no ceiling with its mouth empting out into the water, forming a natural enclave, the tall slabs of bleached stone set close but not flush. Gaps in between them offered limited sight within. Berwald peeked through one of these openings.

He froze.

At the center of the stone prison sitting on a pedestal of long dead coral was a being. Berwald did not presume to even think of it as human, the creature before him far too beautiful to be any mere mortal.

The individual sat naked, save for a harp of gold in his lap, his bare skin pearly white in the sunlight. It gave off a sheen of sparkling silver in direct contact with the morning's light as if it were covered with frost.

Platinum hair shone like spun white gold to hang over half lidded purple eyes, unfocused with crushing melancholy and ultimately boredom. The fingers plucking at the strings were small and delicate, childlike but skillful in their continuous dance. The relaxed form was all soft, elegant lines, curved and flowing like a rare flower, perfect in its repose.

Berwald had never seen anything so beautiful before in his life. He could have stared at this ethereal being forever and not notice the passing of a single second.

That particular notion was crushed when the harpist looked up suddenly to start screaming shrilly, falling off of his perch in an awkward flailing of limbs. Berwald blinked in surprise as he watched the man hide behind the rock, the top of his fair head only peaking out occasionally.

"Don't kill me please! I know he is unhappy with me and warned me not to but please don't hurt me! I'll won't ever do it again! I was just so bored and nightfall was taking forever!….", the man babbled, his voice high and light like a silver bell. Berwald felt something inside him melt at the very sound of it…until his muddled brain mentally processed the words being thrown at him in rapid succession.

Kill him?

Hurt him?

Berwald would hardly do that. The very thought of it made him physically ill. In fact, the idea that someone might even be actually considering this enraged the Swede who had really shitty timing. Just as his formidable glare deepened considerable to new and fearsome depths, the cowering musician dared to peek up at him. Berwald watched as the small male paled to an unhealthy shade of white, ducking back down again.

"Please, please, please, don't! I mean if you are going to, don't just stand there and torture me! Just make it quick!", the harpist yelled frantically. Berwald's brow drew up together tight in line of confusion. Why did this beautiful creature think that he was here to kill him? It was ridiculous! Berwald opened his mouth to tell him this…

….he stopped short….

When was the last time he had actually talked?

He couldn't remember. It had been so long. He had always been quiet even among his own people, believing one should not speak unless it improved on silence. After taking his post though, quiet had turned to mute. With no one around, Berwald had simply stopped talking.

The tall blonde tried to remember but found that he couldn't even recall what his voice sounded like, much less the words to put to use to it.

Berwald licked his suddenly bone dry lips, finding them chapped and rough. It only served to increase his own nervousness further. Something so simple, so basic, he couldn't even recollect how to do now. He shuffled his giant bare feet awkwardly, unsure of convey his feelings, his intent or lack there of. He was scaring the object of his adoration, so how to avoid that or at least assure him that he was not here to harm him?

Leaving was an option. Berwald could just return to his home deep in the wood and forget all about this. It wasn't like he could stay here much longer anyway, a day or so at the most. The idea of walking away now though made the pit of his stomach roll heavy and hot with new and unfamiliar emotions.

But he had a duty…

Berwald turned to walk back down the beach, his head bowed.

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Tino ventured a quick look over his rock to find the scary monster gone. The giant that had been blocking the gap had disappeared just as suddenly as he had appeared, his hard unblinking eyes removed from sight.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Tino shivered, wondering dully if this was all part of his plan. To draw the harpist out of hiding from behind his rock…..which was in the middle of his cage and provided no real defense whatsoever. Tino sighed in disgust at himself. He should be welcoming this assassin, not hiding from him. Finally that damn merman was tired of him and would release him from his captivity and boredom…permanently.

Tino pulled himself back onto the rock, worn satiny smooth from him residing on it. He wondered if the monster would return any time soon or was sent as more of a warning. Tino really hoped he wouldn't be drowned to death but knowing that sadist bastard Denmark, he had probably ordered something awful for him. He would be lucky if it was something as simple as drowning.

"It's not bad enough he's kidnapped and enslaved me, but he has to make my death a joke too.", Tino sighed, his eyes burning with angry tears. A soft sound caught his attention, making him crack his eyes shedding silver paths down his pale cheeks. The gap was filled again, the dark fiend back. Tino gritted his teeth, his mouth sour with fear. Taking a deep breath, the Fin made himself remain still upon his perch. He would face his death with pride and dignity, no matter how horrible the dealer was to him. Tino watched as the dark creature crouched down to push a large seashell through the gap.

Poison…

Really?

He was expected to do the deed himself? How like the hateful merman. Tino got up wearily, shuffling forward in slow, careful steps. He looked up to find the man gone again. It was truly eerie how silently the creature could come and go unnoticed. It only served to prove his earlier assumptions of his profession and intent were true though.

Tino arrived at the shell to find not poison but…

….flowers.

The pale shell was filled to its brim with little summer blossoms of blue and white. Tino poked at them tentatively, having not seen flowers in a long while. None grew in the sand and only the occasional wind blown blossom fell upon him. These were a rarity that were treasured more preciously than jewels to him. Using his magic, Tino pieced the blossoms together until they formed a chain. He looped his new delicate jewelry around his wrist snugly, enamored with the fragrant blooms. His fawning was interrupted though as the finer hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end.

Tino felt the glare upon him even before seeing it. Despite his earlier resolve, Tino fell backward to scuffle away from the beast. He almost made it back to his rock when he noticed a second shell being pushed through, this one filled with oozing slabs of broken honeycomb, sun warmed and fragrant. Tino cast nervous glances from golden sweets to the still crouching figure, swallowing hard.

When was the last time he had had actual food and real sweets no less? Denmark's servants fed him fish and seaweed, while his meager magic turned salt water into fresh, but his diet left a lot to be desired in taste and variety.

Tino's fingers itched to snatch it all up. The monster fidgeted, seeming nervous in the action for whatever reason. Tino decided to stay where he was, well out of reach. If he was going to be killed, he certainly wasn't going to make it any easier for his murderer.

The sound of liquid drew his thoughts of demise elsewhere as a third shell was pushed through the gap. It was filled with a sparkling liquid like molten gold. It smelled heavily of rich spices, tart sweetness, and high alcohol content. Tino's mouth watered, his full lips parting in want.

"Fuck it. If it's poison, I'll die full and happy.", Tino sighed, getting up again to end the distance between them. He froze in surprise with the monster emitted a hurt sound like the Finn's words had actually wounded the assassin somehow. Though he wasn't about to apologize, Tino seated himself to accept the makeshift cups.

The drink and food were gone before he even knew it, Tino even going so far to lick out the shells. Never had he tasted anything so delicious. Tino sighed sadly at the end of his first real meal in years, his violet eyes alighting on the still figure watching his every move. The shadowy creature just sat there, the blue green of his baleful glare the thing really visible about him.

"So I am allowed a last meal then?", Tino asked it finally, uneasy with the silence. The creature shifted uncomfortably, revealing the glint of a weapon at its side, a sword with a hilt of pale bone and a pommel of heavy silver. Tino made himself rise, moving forward until he was pressed against the gap flush. The Finn offered his hand though it, the tiny flowers still wrapped around his slim wrist.

"Aw. So there it is. Come on then. Strike true then fiend. Let's make this quick. I won't beg even if you want me to.", Tino sighed breathily, letting his senses enjoy his last few moments. The way the sun warmed his icy skin, the grains of sand shifted beneath his feet, the scent of the salt air that tingled his pert nose. He tilted his head back in a silent goodbye, his eyes locked on cloudless blue sky. Yes…..this was a beautiful day to die.

The blow came….

Soft and all encompassing…..

As Tino fell over, blind…

…covered in a dark blue cloak.

Tino scrambled up from under the heavy garment to stare down at it with wide eyes. He had not been allowed clothing since the start of his captivity, Denmark liking the look of his bare skin. The cloak almost felt surreal in his fingers now. He gaped up at the monster unsure of him or anything now.

"I-is this for me?", Tino stammered. A motion suggested a nod. Tino squinted against the shadows that played havoc with the creature's outline as the Finn tried to make out his company.

"Move around to the other space in the wall and into the light.", Tino told him, suddenly feeling very unsure of a lot of assumptions as he wrapped the cloak around himself. It covered him completely with material to spare. Tino didn't need it for warmth. His frost fairy aspect was immune to all manner of weather and cold. The option of clothing was comforting though. The cloak was rough against his skin, the homespun coarse and smelling strongly of cedar, earth, and not unpleasantly of musk. It did not smell of blood, something that Tino would expect of a killer's.

Tino watched as the monster moved from the shadows and into the light to become a man, a tall muscular blonde with short cropped hair and bare feet dressed in a long sleeved tunic and leather breeches dyed dark blue in color, his high boots tucked into a wide leather belt at his side. On his other side, he carried a long sword nestled in a heavily scarred scabbard. The harsh expression on his face softened as sunlight fell over it, revealing high cut cheekbones, a solid jaw, and thin lips. Glasses perched on the end of an elegant straight nose with bright eyes hiding behind the lens, a startling greenish blue in hue. The teal orbs regarded the Finn gravely, the expression neutral and a bit stony. The man looked very serious but he certainly didn't look like a killer. Tino certainly hadn't expected him to look so handsome either….

…..you know if you were into tall blondes of with god like physiques of muscular perfection and legs that went on forever…..

…..which he totally wasn't…..he just couldn't help noticing…

…..um….

…yeah….

"Who are you?", Tino asked confused, clutching at the man's cloak as he mentally tried to right himself agian. Human did not come to these shores. Denmark saw to that. The merman sank any vessel that dared to enter his watery lands. He watched as the giant licked his lips, working them uselessly to result in nothing.

"You can't speak?", Tino filled in tentatively. The blonde's cheeks reddened in embarrassment as he hung his head in very apparent shame. Against all odds with himself and his seriously messed up libido, Tino caught himself smiling. The man was just so large and awkward…awkwardly cute. He was like the bears Tino had seen back home in Finland coming out of a long hibernation, all fuzzy and clumsy.

"So you won't speak?", Tino teased, tilting his head to the side to regard his company with a slight smile. The tall man swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing wildly in his personal desperation. He stared down at his rough hands, looking helpless and so oddly endearing. Tino felt a giggle well up in him, working to force it back down again as naughty thoughts ran through his head. What was the saying about men with big feet and hands…

"For what it is worth and in payment for your kindness, I give you my own name. I am Tino Väinämöinen of the Frost Fox tribe, bard to the fairy courts of Winter.", Tino said smiling brightly up at the man. The giant's pale cheeks exploded with instant crimson, his eyes wide. He looked scared and enthralled all in the same moment. This time, Tino couldn't control his laughter, the noise light and sweet as it poured from his throat.

"So I take it you are not here to kill me then.", Tino ventured, running his fingers through his hair in stress relief. The silent man vigorously shook his head, looking outraged. Tino was please someone else besides himself was against him dieing in an untimely and violent manner.

"So what are you doing here?", Tino asked him curiously. The man pointed to the sea, then to the woods that lay beyond it, and back again.

"You came here…..oh Perkele, this has all been coincidence?", Tino guessed. The giant mimed playing an instrument before pointing to the harpist himself.

"Oh! You heard me!", Tino realized, before berating himself. Of course, it was the most obvious answer. He had just jumped to the conclusion of killer. Tino wondered if boredom had finally rotted his brain. It had certainly reeked havoc on his common sense.

"Sorry about that. I am only supposed to play at night.", Tino said bitterly, watching as the giant tilted his head in obvious question.

"For my master.", Tino spat out in disgust of the word, " A vile merman who goes by the title of Denmark. He has kept me here the gods' know how long. You really aren't safe if you were deciding to stay near these waters. Denmark doesn't like humans. He crashes any boat that comes near this beach and drowns its crew.", the Finn watched as the man's expression turned very dark, its focus on the sea. He drew his sword, a shining blade of bright metal, deep runes carved down it's length from tip to hilt, his meaning crystal clear as he held the weapon high overhead. Tino raised a pale eyebrow, impressing by it. Not many would be able to wield such a massive sword, fewer still to hold it that high or that steady.

"He won't be back anytime soon. Denmark only comes on the full moon to make me play for him.", Tino sighed, "The gesture, as futile as it is, is appreciated though.". He would love to see the merman gutted and laid out to bleed the last of his life onto the sand. Tino watched as the man deflated somewhat, choosing to stare at the sea with obvious malice. He turned back after a while to stare down at Tino, who managed to avoid cringing under the harsh gaze. The man could not help his face.

The ensuing quiet did unnerve the Finn though. "Would you like me to play for you?", Tino offered. He wouldn't mind playing for him. It would be his first willing performance in a long time. The giant shook his head though, gesturing instead to Tino to the woods and back again.

"Out? You want to know if I want out?", Tino mused, "Yes, I would give anything to be out, but the stones are enchanted and Denmark's servants prevent me from leaving by sea." The giant seemed to consider this for a moment before motioning for Tino to stand back.

"There is nothing you can do. These rock are magic.", Tino explained sadly. The man just set his thin lips in a grim line, motioning again for the Finn to move back. Tino rolled his eyes at him, knowing from experience how useless the gesture was.

"You are just going to hurt yourself…..", Tino started to lecture, taking a seat on his rock. A bright flash of silver cut his retort short as his jaw dropped. A thin line formed like a bleeding wound along the prison's wall, the bleached stone sliding off and over to fully reveal the blonde giant who stepped over the shattered boundary, his sword humming with power. He sheathed his weapon with a look of triumph as he offered Tino his hand. With shaking fingers, Tino slipped his smaller digits into the offered palm. Though heavily callused and rough to the touch, it was warm and held his hand gently.

"Am I to go with you then…?", Tino asked stunned, "Am I to be your slave? I did offer anything to leave this place.". The giant looked down at him in surprise, shaking his head. His pale cheeks were crimson again, his gaze shy. Despite his precarious situation, Tino found himself drawn to him.

"What am I to do then?", Tino asked, real freedom feeling so odd to him now that it was so readily thrust upon him in a moment's notice. He was still weak from his captivity. If he left on his own now, he would be easy victim to capture or something worse. Tino studied the man before him who still held his hand as carefully as if it were made of glass. A giant of a man with a magic sword, a strong man…

"I have no where to go….", Tino said softly, deliberately leaving the sentence open and hanging as he placed his other hand atop the blonde's, clutching at it with both of his own, drawing the captured appendage to his lean chest. He looked into brilliant teal eyes with his own wide tear stained violet orbs, his lips parted ever so slightly.

The giant seemed to stop breathing for a moment, looking very much like a fear frozen deer. Tino wondered if he had over done it a bit in his desperation. He eeped in surprise, the Finn suddenly scooped up to be held close. The blonde managed a shrug, before tapping his chest hesitantly.

"I can go with you.", Tino murmured, not bothering to make it a question. He relaxed languidly in the arms that held him light as a feather, the giant only pausing to retrieve the Finn's harp. With his prize in his arms, the tall man strode down the beach, his feet eating ground to return home quickly. Tino tried to convince him that he could walk just fine, to have his requests silently ignored.

"I still don't know who you are.", Tino huffed, attempting to wiggle down again. Strong arms adjusted their hold on him easily, the Finn's motion to walk denied. The giant kept traveling for a bit, chewing his bottom lip in thought at the smaller man's comment. Coming to a decision, the blonde stopped so abruptly, Tino nearly dropped his harp in surprise. He turned to snap at his liberator, pausing at the intense look on the blonde's face, his thin lips parting slowly in deliberate thought and action.

The voice that came from the silent man was hoarse. It was rusty from lack of use more of a croak than an actual tone, the inflection of it harsh.

It was the most beautiful sound Tino had heard in a very long time.

"Ma nom 's B'rw'ld, w'fe."

"…"

"…"

"…..Wait! What!? Did you say wife?!"

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"So…..Let me get this straight….", Gilbert said slowly, after a long moment of silence as Tino finished his tale, "…That rose….that rose out there…that glowing weed is the only thing holding back a hell gate?"

Berwald considered the question thoughtfully. "Ja.", he nodded calmly, though he didn't appreciate the Thorn's Gate rose being referred to as a mere weed.

"And it's not the source of your immortal life….at all." Gilbert continued, looking out one of the low slit windows curiously, the cursed patch of land in his view.

"Nej.", Berwald frowned, becoming a bit irked now. The Prussian, though amusing in his absurdity, was starting to merrily tap dance beyond the borders of rude and into the realm of insulting, "Ma contract 's w'th the mamma earth 'tself."

"So….Hypothetically….If say a mob of angry villagers with torches and pitchforks decided to , I don't know, burn it….that would be a bad thing, right?", Gilbert asked bemused, tapping his fingers across the frosted glass to knock off some of its icy film.

"V'ry Bad.", Berwald grunted. Tino rolled his eyes at the master of understatement.

"That is putting it lightly. It would be hell on earth. Dark beings of pure evil would come pouring out of the gate to kill every living thing in their path. You would have to be a complete idiot to even be considering it. Why do you ask?", Tino corrected with a snort. Gilbert straightened up slowly, nodding to himself, a grave expression on his face.

"Cause there is a mob of angry villagers with torches and pitchforks coming this way.", Gilbert shrugged. There was a brief tense pause held in the air from all present before the room erupted into a flurry of movement and lots of cussing in many various languages, mostly at the Prussian.

"How the hell was that hypothetical?!", Arthur snapped, shooting the albino a nasty look as he shouldered his quiver of arrows.

"You have no idea what that word means, do you?", Matthew groaned, wrapping the palms of his twin's hands up in thin strips of leather quickly, Alfred returning the favor. Super strength did not mean invulnerable.

"Nein, but it sounded good.", Gilbert grinned nastily, "Let's go bust some hick's heads in."

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The company and Nords(even Peter much to Arthur's chagrin) practically piled out of the doorway, racing toward the back of the long house at full speed. They arrived just in time to see a torch being flung into the evergreen briar, the cold dried network of flora going up like kindling.

Tino barely managed to keep Berwald from diving into it to disperse the flames as Arthur called up some rain to put it out. Aided by a helpful sleet charm, the flames were extinguished, but the damage had been already done. The last crimson petal fell from the heat withered bloom, turning to crumbling black soot at it touched the frozen scorched ground.

A moment of tense silence was held as Berwald turned to face the villagers, who had drawn back to the edges upon seeing the hired company accompany their sworn enemy.

"Run.", Berwald told them, his face and form stoic though his tone lingered with sadness.

"Run?! Why would we run now, ya beast!? We can finally rid ourselves of ya now that your power is gone!". one of the braver villagers shouted, shaking his makeshift weapon of farming at the tall Swede.

"Warned ya.", Berwald shrugged, dismissing them as he turned to the gate, drawing his sword. The impromptu spokesman cringed at the sound of the metal silkily leaving its confines, whispering deadly intent. He practically cowered upon discovered a very angry Finn upon them, who didn't resist the urge to pelt them with hail.

"You idiots! You dumb stupid bastards! Why would you do that!? We've never bothered you!", Tino yelled at them, red faced with anger as the villagers fumbled for a reason among them that wasn't just hearsay and rumor, while trying to take cover. Their excuses writhed and died on their lips under the frost fairy's winter glare. "You all deserve what is coming to you.", Tino spat at them, before turning on his heel, leaving them to wonder amongst themselves of what he was talking about.

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Ludwig ignored the villagers entirely, more focused on Arthur and Matthew who assessed the plant's state of demise. The pair was aided unnecessarily by Alfred who's lack of skill in horticulture led to the demise of even fake plants.

"C'mon…it's not dead dead right? It's only like mostly dead.", Alfred said hopefully. He poked at the plant, insistent about its state of life(or lack there of). The bush promptly keeling over with a death rattle.

"No pet. It's just dead.", Arthur glared, leaning over to study the remnants of the plant Alfred had somehow managed not to destroy with his presence.

"Shit man! This is super bad! What the hell are we going to do!?", Alfred freaked out as he started to pace.

"Kesesesesese!"

Alfred stopped long enough to glare at the Prussian who lit a dark hand rolled cigarette with a look of extreme amusement.

"What the hell are you laughing about dickhead? You think this is funny?!", Alfred snapped. The albino rolled his lean shoulders in a lazy shrug as he leaned up against a handy tree.

"I dunno Jones….kinda. I mean it's not like we are some of the most famous monster hunters in the world or anything. Or have swords, skill, luck, and ravishing good looks…..well, not you at least. Or super strength. Or magic users with us.", Gilbert mused, studying the smoke pouring from the end of his lighted tip, flicking ash from it.

"B-but we are and have all those things…", Alfred stammered, his adrenaline finally calming down enough to grasp certain things.

"Well Scheiße, I guess we are just going to have to kick some underworld ass then. Sound good to you Arschloch?", Gilbert smirked, showing off his sharp canines. A wide grin grew across the American's face, his sky blue eyes glittering with excitement now.

"Bet you a gold piece I kill more of them than you do.", Alfred challenged. The albino raised a thin pale eyebrow at him.

"Fools and their money are soon parted. I'll see that bet and raise you double.", Gilbert scoffed openly, "You can just give it to me now and save yourself some time. I don't mind taking it from idiots or off of corpses."

"If you two are done comparing dick sizes…", Arthur began.

"No contest there either.", Gilbert chuckled to have the Englishman roll his eyes at him.

"….I may have just thought of a way to save us all."

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Arthur quickly explained to them his plan as he started to draw a complex incantation circle around the plant's charred corpse, his dagger cutting deep furrows into the hard earth with one hand as his other followed behind with pure white chalk. They were joined by a nervous Tino, who fidgeted his glances continuously going back to the tall Swede whose sole focus was upon the gate. The broken grouping of stones were shifting on its own like a tired old man getting up, the heavy blocks of ancient rock sliding up one another slowly to piece together a complete entryway.

"This rose has been part of an enchantment for centuries, a living part of a spell. It's root system runs deep into the earth.", Arthur explained to a ring of blank stares, "Don't you understand? It is all still there. All we have to do it grow it back. Once that happens, the hell gate should close again."

"Will that actually work?", Matthew asked tentatively.

"Think of it all as a circle that has been broken. All we have to do is replace the piece that is missing and the spell should snap back into place…..that or we will at least have roses for our funerals.", Arthur sighed, finished his work with a flourish. He gestured for Tino to come closer, "I will need your help to do this. I would prefer three to work this though. It's a better magical number, but that is neither here or there I guess."

"Then I will just have to do my royal duty even if it does mean lowering myself to work with you jerk.", Peter said loudly from behind Arthur, making him jump.

"You?! What in the sodding hell can you do?", Arthur snapped, glaring down at the preteen, "Though on second thought, the demons can waste their time eating you first. Might even choke the buggers or at least annoy them to death."

"Obviously I am a magic user extraordinaire. Marvel at my wondrous skill!", Peter stated grandly, as he did a couple of weird spins to be suddenly dressed in bright red armor and an oddly shaped helmet. His gauntlet popped off all by itself to lightly hit Arthur in the head, the blow barely enough to ruffle his hair. Peter tried not to look too embarrassed as he walked over to retrieve his gauntlet(it was hard considering Gilbert and Alfred were laughing their asses off).

"Brilliant. I take it all back.", Arthur said flatly in a bone dry tone, "You are just not useless. You are completely and utterly useless."

"But he does have the gift.", Tino said soothingly, as Peter changed back a little deflated.

"As meager as it may be…." Arthur snorted, feeling quite superior at the moment.

"He's all we got.", Tino stated firmly. Arthur's shoulders slumped as he came to the same realization, his options very slim with their present company.

"Bugger. Take a corner and try to keep up.", Arthur growled, pointing to a triangle's corner within the circle. Tino took the other indicated corner with Arthur, completing the set.

"Keep them off our backsides kraut.", Arthur told Ludwig, "This might take a while." The German nodded silently, noting the level of stress in the usually calm Englishman's voice. If there was one thing Arthur was confident it was his magic. If he was nervous about this spell, the last thing he needed was a physical threat.

Arthur jumped in surprise for the second time that day as a kiss was pressed to his temple. He looked up at his American, who grinned down at him. "Good luck babe.", Alfred laughed, already bouncing from foot to foot impatiently. Arthur couldn't help himself from smiling. Alfred looked like a kid waiting for Christmas morning to arrive, not a warrior facing off against a demon horde.

"I don't need luck git. I've got skill.", Arthur countered, turning back to the others, "Alright boyos! For the kingdom and all that shite!"

The trio began to chant, the lines of the circle sparking to a bright glow as their voices mingled harmoniously. Green energy infused the lines of the circle from Arthur as it was bordered by purple from Tino and bright blue from Peter.

The three lost themselves to the working of the spell as the rest of the world faced away from them.

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Ludwig nodded his silent approval upon seeing the circle start to work, the tri color glow of it casting odd shadows about the trio as the air crackled and popped with power.

"Jones, Bruder, …..you…form a perimeter around them. Let nothing in at all costs. No need for restraint. Send them all back to hell in pieces.", Ludwig ordered, drawing his own sword. It was a heavier weapon than the light pair of scimitars that Gilbert dual wielded, made of dully colored steel, the handle wrapped in braided black leather. It had been given to him by Germania himself when he had deemed Ludwig sufficiently trained. Like all great weapons it had a name, though few knew it. Herr Schtick was a formidable sword.

The German joined the giant Swede at point, a position that Berwald had already designated for himself, ready at the gate's front. Red light and foul smelling mist already poured from it as its mouth yawned wide. Whispers seeped from moving shadows as the world around them shuddered in remembrance of a nightmare only half remembered in waking.

It was coming.

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The townspeople shuffled like cattle as they watched the hunters they had hired work with the Beast and his Beauty. Some more oblivious people muttered angrily about this and stomped their feet while others trembled refusing to break from the group despite their rising fears. Something in the air made them cower together. A heavy feeling, one that most left behind in childhood crawled over their chilled skin again with clammy tendrils.

The feeling of waking up in the hour of the wolf, deep in the secret heart of night to feel eyes upon you even though you know….think….that you are alone. You in your panic hide under thin sheets, pulling your toes out of harm's way, a thin layer of cotton your only armor as things move beneath your bed(you know they do, you can hear them, that strange dry scraping sound….like breathing…..).

That feeling.

And it makes you feel stupid when you wake up to greet the dawn's light, feeling silly but grateful all at the same time.

…..But there is no sun's rays to save you here, only torchlight that seems small and insignificant, casting more shadows than visibility. The night has never looked so deep before or more dangerous, its velvet softness a bitter lie.

They shuffle closer together, pressing cold sweat coated flesh flush with one another because fear like misery loves company. The Beast had told them to run. Something is working into the back of their collective minds that he had not meant from him.

The tall man in blue with the old eyes like glaciers has his back to them, facing the old broken gate of stone, that is not in ruins anymore. It is glowing red sickly light that practically oozes out of its crevices. Mist starts to cover the ground, hiding their feet from view and it stinks.

It smells of blood that has been set out to spoil, clotted thick and dark.

It pongs of pain, the odor of sweat and tears dripping off of strained skin as it is cut away from live quivering muscle.

It reeks of horror filled with the clicking of sharp enamel and claws on hard surfaces.

The monsters are real…..all of them. The lies they have been telling themselves to go to sleep at night shatter like glass in their minds.

There is a reason why people are afraid of the dark and why prayers have the words "if I should die before I wake" written into them. Some don't pull their toes to safety in time.

There is something moving in the mist…..

…and it is hungry.

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The screams of the villagers make the company and Berwald flinch but it can't be helped.

"St'y.", Berwald tells them calmly, "Scouts. Weak. Can't travel too f'r.

"Everyone get ready.", Ludwig warned, crouching low to center himself, his ice blue eyes tracking over the deceivingly soft waves of rolling white.

"I hate to point this out with us about to die horribly and all….", Alfred drawled out curiously, the American being oddly observant at the worst possible times, "…..but where is Feliciano and Feliks?"

Ludwig felt his stomach drop painfully fast as his head whipped around, trying to locate the pair. The Italian and swan were no where in sight or within earshot(Feliks never shut up and Feliciano tended to sing if left unattended too long).

"Scheiße!", the German cursed, failing to find the pair. He racked his brain, trying to remember the last time they had been altogether. Feliciano tended to follow him around like an over affectionate puppy so he had just expected him to be near by. He had to find them and quickly before….

At that moment, the gate flew open and all of hell poured through.  
-

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The creatures coming out of the gate were of all different sizes and shapes in shades of red with blackened edges and accents. The tallest towered even over the Swede, their gangly arms ropey with muscle that dragging on the ground from their weight. Other smaller beings were wicked fast with sharp, razor like claws that shredded skin as they passed. Each was a world of horror unto itself, the only common unifying factor among them. They were covered in strange patches of skin that looked pieced together, different sections in various shades and even different textures. It took a minute for Ludwig to realize that it was the remains of the demon's victims, worn as trophies, clothing, or both. Some of them still had faces, to stare back void at them.

There were flyers as well that took to the air filling the night air with ugly noises. Ludwig eyed them warily, above threats some of the worst. To his surprise though, the flyers were promptly taken down, the indigo sky filled with a symphony of feathered wings and the marked calls of owls, crow, and raven. Though the trees had gone to sleep in an effort to forget, the animals had long memories. Ludwig heard others moving about them, saw flashes of furred hide in starlight and the snarls from muzzled snouts as wolf, bear, and fox tear into anything that dared trespass into their domain.

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Alfred found it easiest to sink his flingers straight into the demon's eye sockets and just tear the heads clean off. He then could chuck the head full force at another demon, effectively killing it at long range. It was messy to say none the least(his arms were coated with inky sludge and bits of things well past his elbows and up to his shoulders) and the demons really smelled bad, but he was getting terribly efficient at it. It was a good thing he wasm't squeamish.

Alfred decided to change tactics though upon noticing that the Prussian was beating him in numbers. He decided to go for quantity over quality. Uprooting a young tree, the American made himself an impromptu club out of it to beat multiple demons at the same time to a squishy pulp.

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Gilbert moved in circles around the chanting trio, his swords moving continuously in silver arches as blood fell like black rain all around him.

He used the American's weapon of choice(an uprooted tree of all things) to his advantage. Jumping on it mid-swing, he let the momentum of it launch him high over head. With death defying speed and agility, he harvested his victims, his crops death and worm food falling in neat sheaves at his boots.

Gilbert couldn't remember the last time he had had so much fun.

The pale grim reaper wore a skeleton's grin as demon's fell all around him.

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Matthew set his tiny polar bear cub on the ground gently, the animal already wiggling with excitement. With a few low spoken words, the Canadian released Kumajirou from his charmed form, the cub growing instantly up and out, his sharp claws sinking deeply into the cold earth. Matthew climbed on top of his broad back, drawing his sword. With a slight nudge of hands and heels, the pair launched themselves into the fray. Fang, claw, and teeth carved a path of carnage through the mass of devils.

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Berwald and Ludwig fought back to back, the bodies piling up one by one all around them as they stemmed the tide. Demons wounded or killed by the Swede's sword turned to ash instantly, the blessed weapon in a category of its very own. Berwald handled it like it was an extension of himself, every strike true and sure.

The giant blonde was almost unnerving to watch in battle with his body relaxed and his face holding a stoic expression in the midst of such dire dreadfulness. Ludwig was a veteran to this sort of work and even he was beginning to feel its toll upon him.

Worrying about his beloved didn't help matters either.

"They just keep coming!", Ludwig growled, his frustration beginning to show.

"Ja. T'll the end of days.", Berwald grunted with a shrug, cutting through two more that flew at him, "The l'ttle man….the one that s'ngs…"

"What about him?", Ludwig said bitterly. He hoped beyond hope that Feliciano had gotten frightened(as he tended to do) and ran away, far far away. Ludwig has a gut wrenching vision of the cowardly Italian waving his little white flag at the demons before being torn limb from limb by them.

A rough voice cut through his thoughts of misery, "Go f'nd him."

"I can't leave my post especially not for selfish reasons.", Ludwig pushed out through gritted teeth, his resolve almost buckling.

"'t's ma post. Go f'nd h'm.", Berwald told the German sternly, pausing to glare impressively down at him. Ludwig refused to wince under it, opening his mouth to argue back about duty.

"We got this West!", Gilbert smirked, ducking and dodging past them dressed in sprays of blood. A head smacked into one of the Prussian's intended victims, killing it instantly. Gilbert whirled around to point one of his scimitars at a grinning American, "Hey fucker, that one was mine!"

"I didn't see your name on it!", Alfred yelled back cheerfully, curb stomping a fallen demon under his heel.

"Hosers. Go find Feliciano. I'll take your place.", Matthew said, calling Kumajirou to a halt beside them. The polar bear's pelt dripped with dark matter, looking more made of tar than that of snow. The Canadian directed his animal back to the circle before taking Ludwig's place, giving the German a purposeful shove.

"Danke.", Ludwig sighed gratefully, before taking off at full speed toward the long house. With any luck, Feliciano….and Feliks…..were hiding there or near by. Ludwig prayed that his vision would not be actual reality.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOO

Arthur barely even registered the noise around him. It seemed to be happening far off from him or to a different person entirely. It was only him, Tino, and Peter in this world, a colorful vortex of swirling energy. He was reconstructing the ancient spell piece by piece. It was like gluing a Faberge egg back together, each minuet part important to its structure. The rose bush roots grew green and vibrant again, pushing up stalks to stretch outward with leafy palms as flora parts unfurled and spread. Parts of the spell snapped back into place instantly while others had to be retrieved through pure will alone like wayward pieces of spider silk.

All three were sweating now under the pure strain of the spell. Tino was propping himself with his knees and hands, his voice hoarse as he still chanted. Peter sat cross-legged, rocking back and forth whispering his part, his eyes scrunched up tight to spill tears down his reddened cheeks. Arthur still stood on his pride alone, allowing nothing less from himself though his hands trembled in pain and exhaustion. They were all starting to hit a wall though.

They just needed a little more time.

A single bloom was starting to grow.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOO

"Feliciano! Feliciano! Damn it, where are you!", Ludwig yelled, hoping that the Italian would be in the house, hiding under a bed or in a closet. The strange writing on the outside of the long house prevented anything other than human(or certain fae)from entering. A quick run through of the domain produced no Italian or enchanted waterfowl.

Ludwig ran out the front to the little clearing surrounding it to find it covered in blood. Bodies lay in still repose, their throats and bellies slit wide open to pump out the remainder of their cursed lives into the hungry earth. A hundred at least, the dead demons painted the open ground in shades of wet glittering midnight, reflecting back the night sky above almost beautifully. Starlight and what little moonlight there was painted everything else in shades of silver, making death look almost picturesque.

In the middle of this still life stood Feliciano gazing up at the velvety sky, searching the heavens with golden eyes for a shooting star. He held Feliks in his arms, the swan strangely silent. Ludwig tried to say something but couldn't find sufficient words to express his astonishment, especially when the Italian shifted his attention to the German, a peaceful expression on his angelic visage.

"H-how?", Ludwig choked out.

"Enchantment?", Feliks offered.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOO

Arthur focused, pushing through unseen barriers to come out gasping, his choppy locks drenching in sweat. While his own brand of power was warm drawing from the land and elements itself, Tino's magic was as cool and crisp as a snowflake. It burned and twisted across Arthur's own but was manageable. Peter's was wild though, like an ocean wind, snapping to and fro at the tides to produce white caps on waves. It was beginning to become inconsistent.

"Would you focus!", Arthur groaned, compensating for it once again.

"How much longer!?", Peter whined, his fists white knuckling wads of his clothing in pain.

"It would go faster if you stop mucking about!", Arthur growled, trying to ignore the metaphysical torture himself.

"But it hurts…", Peter sniffled plaintively, cracking his eyes to meet blue to green.

"I know lad, but stiff upper lip. You are supposed to be a Kirkland. If nothing less do it for your own pride.", Arthur sighed, grinding his own heels back for more support as he lifted his chin defiantly.

"Just a little more.", Tino gasped, still managing to give the pre teen an encouraging smile. They all knew they wouldn't last much longer at this rate.

Arthur gritted his teeth and put his all into it.

The bloom started to gain a crimson color to its still folded petals.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOO

Ludwig reached the pair as the woods around them started to move with evil intent. The German moved to shield them from the incoming threat only to have a bewildered swan shoved into his arms.

"Feli! This is not the time for games!", Ludwig managed out before a slim finger was placed to his cold burned lips.

"Hush Doitsu.", Feliciano said in unfamiliar commanding tone, "Ve~ And try to stay out of my way. I won't be long I promise."

Demons moved out of the trees, drawn to the cooling flesh of their fallen brethren like vultures to a corpse. They rushed the hunters immediately. Ludwig moved to meet them, his sword raised….

…and froze to stare as the world seemed to hold its breath…

Feliciano stepped forward on pointed toe as straight as any dancer, his arms out to his sides in graceful arches. He executed a bow to begin….

….dancing and singing.

Ci sono cose che nessuno ti dirà  
(There are things nobody with tell you)

It was the best description Ludwig could even put to the Italian's movements in his mind. Feliciano moved toward the demons with a gentle smile on his face and a matte black stiletto in each hand, the razor blade paper thin and looking sharp enough to cut air.

Ci sono cose che nessuno ti darà  
(There are things nobody will give you)

Feliciano met his first and second dance partners at once on light feet to flow around and through them like smoke, the only reminder of his existence to them was the wide mouths he left on their throats.

Sei nato e morto qua  
(You are born and you die here)

Ludwig moved forward again when Feliciano's arm was grabbed by a large devil, jerking the Italian harshly toward its claws. He wasn't sure how Feliciano did it, but the slight man followed through with the motion, unresisting to the energy of it to let his body rag doll, his dead weight unbalancing the demon. As the fiend leaned over precariously trying to right itself, Feliciano rolled across it, opening a long path of flesh in his wake. The demon was dead before it even it the ground.

Sei nato e morto qua  
(You are born and you die here)

Feliciano moved like a shade across the killing ground, with never a misstep or ill timed strike. He was water flowing over stones, air passing through gaps in a wall, and deadly figment that struck with a soft sigh and bewitching smile.

The dance only came to an end when the last demon fell. Feliciano gave his dance partners a deep bow, flicking his hidden blades back into their places under his sleeves.

"Grazie per la danza.", Feliciano whispered to the dead.

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"How much longer are you going to be with that weed?", Gilbert snapped irritable at the trio. He was getting sticky with all the demon matter on him and not in a good way. He wanted a beer and a bath damn it. If anything can get a reaction, it's a Prussian.

"Sod off! It's not like this is easy, you pale gobshite!", Arthur snarled tiredly. They were so close, the rose starting to open, "Come on lads! One last push!"

"I can't!", Peter wailed, his energy flagging to almost nothingness. Tino was too tired to do anything but focus, his pale lips moving in quiet motions numbly.

"Now see here you little shite! Do you claim to be a prince of Britannia or not?! Because a true prince of Britannia sees things to the end!", Arthur said haughtily, staring the child down with an empirical look, still standing, still proud, his baring regal in every aspect despite his pained exhaustion. Peter's eyes opened wide at the challenge. He gritted his teeth, snarling back the thick browed blonde wordlessly.

"Jerk!", Peter yelled, jumping up as his energy flared like a wave almost consuming the circle entirely. It was enough to open the rose completely, the spell snapping back to reality with an audible bang as the stones shook. The door flung itself wide open howling bloody murder as it started to suck back its denizens. Demons came out of the woodwork screaming, clawing at anything for purchase as they were sent back through the hell gate.

Feliciano, Ludwig, and Feliks joined the others to watch the show.

"I see you found your flake.", Gilbert laughed at his quiet brother who looked a bit shell shocked for some reason. The Prussian wondered if he had got fast head or something.

"Ve~ Doitsu found me! I was so scared!", Feliciano said cheerfully a vacant smile of innocence on his face. Ludwig shook his head in disbelief, deciding not to say anything for now, though he might warn his brother about teasing the Italian so often. Then again, maybe not.

A cry made them turn back to the circle, green and blue energy fluxing crazily against each other. "Peter you idiot! Control yourself! The spell is over! Pull it back before….", Arthur screamed, a blinding flash enveloping them all as the spell overloaded onto them, essentially backfiring due to all the excess power. Berwald dived for Tino who was nearly conscious, cradling the Finn to him. Tino smiled up weakly at him, murmuring reassurances softly to his worried Swede.

Alfred waded into the colorful smoke, wind milling his arms in an attempt to clear it. He ended up with watering eyes and a coughing fit for his troubles.

Eventually, all the smoke cleared to reveal Peter, dazed but unharmed. Alfred looked around frantically for Arthur, not seeing his grouchy fiancé straight off. What he did find was his evergreen cloak piled up on the frozen ground.

"NOOOO! Arthur!", Alfred cried, falling to his knees beside it.

"What the bloody hell are yelling about now?!", the cloak snapped at him, the material shifting as something moved underneath it. Alfred quickly located the edge of the garment to throw it back.

He stared. They all did in shock….expect for Gilbert who started to laugh his ass off.

A rather stunned cat blinked up at the American with its familiar clover eyes. It's fur was mostly white and shorthaired with the exception of a splotch of orange on its left ear and on its tail. Both of its ears were folded over strange patches of fur that strongly suggested eyebrows to its viewer. Through odd temporal and magical mechanics or whatever reason, the cat wore a belt with a sword at its furry side as well as a pair of boots that looked rather dashing on the feline.

"P-puss?", Alfred stammered confused. He was sure he had heard Arthur's voice from under the cloak only to find a really cute kitty instead.

"In boots, which are totally fab by the way.", Feliks added, having a fetish for footwear and fashion.

Arthur looked down at himself curiously, taking full note of the entire situation.

"Bloody hell!"


	11. Chapter 11

"We're lost!", an irritated Italian man huffed, blowing hot air up at his bangs that had a bad tendency to hang over his face. They went dutifully back into place despite the steam treatment. Ignoring the obstinate bronze colored locks, Romano glared up at the sky as if it were to blame for his immediate predicament. The brunette could have been annoyed about so many things really to the most casual of observers. His apparel was less than to be desired, for one thing(at least for him). The petite man was currently wearing a light pink maid's outfit complete with stiff starched apron and headscarf, the dress fitted to his non existent curves snuggly. During the Italian's imprisonment(something he swears was not his fault-some people should really learn not to leave their tomatoes just lying around like that) in the tower, it would seem the Hungarian witch had relieved Romano of all his more masculine clothing and no one in the party was willing to share(for various and mostly perverted reasons).

Speaking of which…..

It could have very well been the company that the Italian was keeping, putting such a downer upon his day. It consisted of a perverted Frenchman, a dull Estonian, and an unbelievably stupid Spanish bastard(all of this in his own personal opinion-in reality, he was only about a third right-the Frenchman was actually horribly perverted).

In retrospect, his whereabouts were really the very least of his worries. Lovino Romano Vargas, grandson of the famous Rome and twin of the currently wayward Feliciano, continued to glare up at the sky, frightening little clouds in it.

"We are not lost Lovi!", Antonio said cheerfully, undaunted by the Italian's sober attitude and general careless cloud abuse.

"Where are we then, cause it ain't Italy. I know Italy.", Romano spat out, redirecting his baleful gaze upon the meandering Spaniard.

"How can you be so sure?", Antonio asked curiously. It all looked the same to him, though the weather was definitely warmer than it had previously been. Which was nice. Really nice. So nice, Antonia briefly considered a siesta, the concept nixed when his collar was grabbed roughly so that he was dragged down to look levelly into angry amber eyes.

"Cause genius, the Acropolis is famous for being in Greece, you dumb bastard!", Romano growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to point at the world renowned structure behind him in plain view. Antonio shrugged, admiring it with a wide smile.

"So pretty. Do you think they sell postcards of it?", Antonio asked hopefully, getting excited over the thought of souvenirs. Romano rolled his eyes, releasing the Spaniard with a look of disgust before turning to the other two in their group.

"Do either of you morons know where we are?", Romano asked, not really expecting a good or passably intelligent answer from them. He was not disappointed.

"Non, it is all Greek to moi.", Francis chuckled, amused by his own rapier wit. The Frenchman lounged on some convenient ruins, enjoying a bottle of wine and some rather smelly cheese which he swore went beautifully with the red. Eduard face palmed, distancing himself a bit from the Frenchman. He ignored them all in favor of an alchemy book.

"Fucking fantastic. Useless, witless, and worthless.", Romano sighed a touch bitterly.

"Which one am I Lovi?", Antonio asked with a curious look.

"Since it's you, go ahead and pick one.", Romano snapped, "So what now idiots? Like I said we're lost!"

"No. We simply do not know where we are. There is a difference.", Eduard corrected calmly in cool tones, ignoring Romano's sour look, "Furthermore, I do not remember you giving us any valuable directions at any point in time or even bothering to take initiative in leading us to Italy. You slept the entire way here and only woke up long enough to complain about the food."

Romano sputtered wordlessly in the face of such stoic logic, red faced with growing embarrassment. The Estonian was correct of course, but he couldn't help it he was tired. The witch had work him to the bone(well until she had found out he was completely useless at it and broke everything he touched) and the food had been terrible(Well kinda…it had been actually pretty good considering it was French, lacking pasta entirely and most importantly tomatoes). "Chigi! Fine! Whatever!", Romano growled, "If you are so smart bastard, what are we going to do now then?"

"For starters, we could ask them for directions.", Eduard countered smoothly, pointing to a pair of men sitting off to the side of the road ahead of them, apparently having tea from strange looking cups with no handles.

The strangers were a contrast in interests and made for strange traveling companions, though they conversed politely, pausing to acknowledge the group approaching them.

One of the men was obviously European with shoulder length chestnut brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, stray tendrils of it escaping to frame a gentle looking face. The man wore light leather armor over a practical traveling suit in shades of earthy brown, a well used sword at his side, marking him as a wandering knight. Soft green eyes looked up at them curiously until they alighted upon the Estonian, recognition flowing into them.

"Eduard? Is that really you?", Toris, prince of Lithuania, asked looking up in surprise at the taller Baltic, his former fellow inmate. He rose up to meet them, giving Eduard a light hug which the other returned gratefully.

"Yes. I'm glad to see you left Russia as well. Did you escape or were you sent back?', Eduard said, relieved to see his old friend safe. Toris had been one of the other princes trapped under the rule of Czar General Winter. They had been placed within his daughter's household with another prince, to be her servants.

"So Raivis is lost to us then I presume?", Eduard asked hesitantly, the Latvian a brethren to them of sorts as well and the missing piece to their Baltic trio.

"Last time I saw him, he was dancing with Prince Ivan and declared his chosen bride. Princess Natalia was being captured by some guards, the poor bastards, and Princess Katyusha stayed behind with her to lend moral support, to whom is anyone's guest. I returned to the house later that following morning to find it empty. I decided to take your lead and leave while I still could.", Toris explained, filling Eduard in on some minor details he had missed having left the ball early, disappearing gown one of the factors in that decision. He winced in remembrance of that fateful night, one in which he had gotten his freedom and a fiancé all in one go.

"I'm sorry about not leaving you a message…", Eduard started to apologize to be waved off by Toris.

"I understand. I wouldn't have either.", Toris smiled sadly. "But what are you doing here? And who are you traveling with?" The Lithuanian peeked around Eduard curiously, staring at his colorful company. Antonio was currently admiring some passing butterflies with an enraptured look on his face. Romano suddenly remembered he was in a dress, so he was quietly fuming to himself about it. And Francis….

"Bonjour mon ami! I am Francis Bonnefoy, lover of beauty and possessor of hearts at your service.", Francis purred, the Lithuanian finding himself suddenly very close to the Frenchman, who wrapped an arm around his waist drawing them flush. Toris's hand was caught neatly to have kisses pressed to its pale back.

"Oh my….he certainly is …friendly.", Toris blushed, trying to get his hand back from being tongue raped. He jumped as a hand suddenly cupped his buttock, groping it throughly.

"I'm sorry. He's French.", Eduard sighed, grabbing a handful of long silky locks to pull Francis off of his embarrassed and much too polite for his own good friend. The motion backfired on him though, the Frenchman attaching himself to the Estonian instead, moaning wantonly from the hair pulling. Eduard somehow managed to appear calm as he ignored the molestation, though his cheeks were lightly dusted with blush. "….and he's my fiancé…..", he muttered quickly.

"Oh….ah….um, I'm sure you two will be very happy?", Toris stammered, his mind wandering about desperately for a safe topic to talk about. "What…wow, that's not right…what are you, um, doing in Greece?"., he finally managed out, daring to look back at the pair to his immediate regret.

"We were…..Stop that! We are in public…..were looking for Italy and we got…(sounds of a Frenchman being smacked and clothes being put back on again)…..got sidetracked…."

"You mean lost!", Romano snapped, glaring down at a now pouting Francis, "Have some decency bastard! We don't want to see your hairy ass!"

"Boo! You are both so mean and closed off from love.", Francis sniffled, "And I'll have you know I manscape."

"I so didn't need to know that.", Romano gagged, "No one should have to know that."

"So what are you doing here?", Eduard said overly loud, valiantly ignoring them and desperate for distraction, "This seems out of your way and who are you traveling with? He seems so wonderfully normal."

"Oh yes, sorry about that. This is Lord Kiku Honda from Japan.", Toris blushed, having forgotten about the quiet man's presence momentarily.

"It is very nice to meet you all, friends of the honorable Toris-san.", Kiku said politely, bowing at the waist to them though he found some of them definitely strange.

Kiku Honda was a small man with a slender build, garbed in a flowing kimono with long billowing sleeves. The inner shell of it was a pristine white silk over which was outer shell of brushed silk decorated with a beautiful dragonfly pattern in shades of blue and black with accents of red. An obi(belt) was tied at his waist with the knot in the front, a katana thrust though it at his left side. It was accompanied by a Wakizashi(short sword). He wore simple cotton thread sandals (waraji) and wooden clogs (geta) on his small feet, appearing quite comfortable in the warm Grecian weather. His black blue hair was very straight and cut short, the bangs of which barely grazing his forehead to hang over dull dark brown eyes and delicate porcelain features, comparable to any doll in delicateness.

"We are looking for an oracle of great renown who is famous in this part of the world.", Kiku continued, blushing slightly from all the attention being directed upon him now.

"An oracle? Do such things even still exist?", Eduard asked, feeling a bit worried for his friend. He had never taken the Lithuanian to be one for idle rumor or speculation of the supernatural.

"I know how it sounds, but I am desperate! I have been trying to find my….friend…. He was cursed by Ivan before he kidnapped me. I have been looking for him everywhere.", Toris sighed embarrassed, "I was hoping that all the tales about the oracle here was true."

"Hmmmm….sounds promising. Perhaps we can ask him directions as well.", Francis mused.

"Or ask him if Romano and I will be together forever!", Antonio said dreamily, gazing at his object of affection longingly .

"I can answer that for you for free right now! Not a chance in hell bastard!", Romano yelled, scowling at the Spaniard as he tried to wipe that look of Antonio's face, who kept agilely dancing out of harm's way.

"Oh dear. So violent. Should we not help him?", Kiku murmured, taken aback by the scene of cross-dressing rage.

"Please do not trouble yourself on their account, mon ami. It is merely how they express their l'amore.", Francis smiled, twirling his rose under nose in a way that made Kiku feel very uncomfortable, "So where is this oracle?"

"Somewhere among the ruins of Delphi supposedly. The oracle will answer any question for a price.", Toris told them.

"What's the price?", Eduard asked.

"Nobody knows that for sure.", Toris shook his head.

"Sounds spooky.", Antonio said, whistling a dirge in low whispery notes, "It could be your soul."

"Sounds fucking sketchy as hell.", Romano grumbled, ignoring the goose bumps that went up his arm.

"But better than just walking around I think, Oui?", Francis reminded everyone in a chiding tone of their current 'lost' status.

"Yay! Let's go see the oracle!", Antonio cheered, practically skipped, "I will buy lots of souvenirs and take pictures with her! I hope she is a very pretty lady!".

"We are not here to sightsee, damn it!", Romano yelled after him, "And if she is a very pretty lady, I'm kissing her first, bastard!"

Eduard wondered briefly why the pair had their hearts already set on oracle's gender. He was fairly certain Toris had never brought it up.

"That is it, my sweet cannoli of rage! Life is about grabbing it by its fair bosom and finding sweet love within its lovely heaving depths and curves. To caress joy from its silky vital regions. To part…..", Francis waxed poetic…..and perverted. He was interrupted when a shoe smacked him square in the head, knocking him over.

"Chigi! What the fucking hell are you talking about you disgusting bastard!?", Romano growled, shaking the other shoe threateningly at the fallen Frenchman.

Kiku blushed, feeling deeply ashamed for all of them especially the one called Francis. He had heard stories about the over zealous natures and immoral tendencies of the European people. Francis alone seemed to be the very embodiment of them all, from excessive drinking in one hand to the groping of the other to the flow of blatant filth coming freely from off his lips. Kiku kept Toris or anyone convenient for that matter between him and Francis as all times. He doubted the Frenchman would take any responsibility for his shameless behavior, and to make matters even worse, hadn't that quiet man in glasses claimed to be his fiancé. Unless the word had a different meaning here or his grasp of the English language was worse than he feared, Francis had no honor whatsoever.

Sighing softly to himself, Kiku wondered briefly what it must feel like to be lower than pond scum. The Spaniard wasn't much better though. He and Francis seemed to delight in taking turns harassing/molesting the foul mouthed Italian who appeared to be wearing women's clothing. Kiku felt himself blush again at the very thought of it and tried to avoid looking at him. It produced very conflicting thoughts in Kiku's normally tranquil mind.

Shaking his head, Kiku berated himself over it, trying to find balance in this chaotic world that surrounded him. He was a noble and a samurai. He lived by a strict code of conduct and honor. He would not to lead astray by these sensualistic delinquents.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO  
Upon reaching Delphi or what was left of it, things did not improve for the group as they searched the ruins, finding them to be just that-ruins. A whole lot of knocked over rocks made up the hilly terrain, overgrown with brush and other types of flora. A once great city lay at their feet as an old corpse, shamelessly bearing her bones for all to see.

"Chigi! What fucking dump! All this way for a whole lot of wrecked marble.", Romano fumed, his balled fists resting high on his narrow hips.

"It is not all bad. The day is lovely, we have good company, a song in our hearts and a…", Francis started to sing.

"A clowder of cats.", Eduard commented offhandedly.

"Oui, and a clowder of…..what?", Francis looked over at his Estonian in question.

"It is a proper term for a group of cats.", Eduard explained patiently to receive a blank stare form the Frenchman. He pointed behind him at a line of cats, seven to be exact, singing as they marched.

"Meow meow. Meow meow. Me- ow ow ow ow ow ow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Meow. Me-OW, ow ow ow ow ow ow!", the seven cats sang enthusiastically but not very well. It would have sounded better if whistled but cats kinda lack lips so there ya go.

"That is possibly the most bizarre thing I have ever seen.", Toris said absently, his mind still processing it. Francis shrugged, unimpressed having spent the better part of a thousand years as a talking frog. Singing cats were nothing compared to that. Eduard was in the same boat, having kissed said talking frog that had changed into a horny prince. Off-key cats didn't even touch his own personal corner of weird. Romano considered throwing his boot at them. The tune was starting to work his last nerve. Antonio and Kiku were entranced though.

"So cute!", Antonio cooed as Kiku nodded enthusiastically, blushing as they followed the musically challenged felines. Lacking anything better to do, the rest followed them. The cats continued singing until they reached a very odd thing. Lying in a slight depression that seemed carved out of a huge chuck of snowy white marble decorated heavily with sparkling glass mosaics, lay a man. He was dressed simply in a long trailing toga of fine white linen, the excess of which slipped out elegantly over the edge of the recess to flutter in passing breezes or the battering paws of cats. An artfully braid cord cinched the simple garment round his lanky waist, the end of the tassels decorated with carved beading.

The still man didn't stir as the cats settled down all around him to finish their odd, shrill song of ear piecing fun. The travelers joined them curiously.

"Holy crap! Is he dead!?", Romano asked, poking at the man's cheek with a pointy stick.

"Stop that! That's rude Lovi! Dead people don't like being poked!", Antonio chastised.

"And how would you know!? Chigi! How many dead people have you been poking, bastard?!", Romano shot back.

"Um…..I don't think he's dead.", Eduard sighed, wondering why he constantly got stuck with spastic idiots. He picked up the man's wrist gently, holding it still as he counted back from a light pulse.

"Yup. Still alive but either sleeping or unconscious judging from his heart rate.", Eduard confirmed after a moment.

"Hey asshole! Wake up! Why the hell are you scaring people pretending to be dead for no reason!?", Romano yelled in the slumbering man's face with no effect.

"How rude.", Kiku sighed, edging forward now it was established that they were not dealing with the dead. He was surprised to see how handsome the man was, a serene look upon his face. Classic Grecian features, the perfection of which were normally found only in cold statues, graced the tranquil visage. Instead of the pale marble though, his skin was of a rich olive complexion, common among the residents of this land, it's lush coloring contrasting beautifully with the whiteness of his toga. Soft looking curly hair, a voluminous shade of nutmeg, came down slightly past his shoulders, an oddly rebellious double curl peeking out from the rest. A crown of olive leaves resting on his brow was the man's only real decoration beside his toga, the Greek's feet bare.

Kiku looked shyly away, realizing belated that he was staring, struck dumb by the Greek perfection before him. He was like a statue in repose come to life like from one of the stories that Kiku had read back in Japan.

"What the hell is wrong with him them?", Romano asked irritably, giving the man a good shake to no waking reaction.

"He could be under an enchantment.", Francis offered, " I have heard of this sort of thing quite often actually. It is a deathlike sleep that can only be broken with un baiser.", Francis said with great authority, well versed in these sort of matters. Knocking about as a talking frog for long centuries will make one a sort of specialist on such matters of slumbering maidens in need of a kiss…or whatever else.

"A what?", was the collective question.

"A kiss.", Eduard translated, his cheeks going a little hot and red. Most of his French had been learned through pillow talk. Hold an actual conversation-not going to happen. Ask…tell someone how to xxxx or xxxx with a xxx or to xxxx. No problem.

"Well, I'm not doing it! The bastard can sleep forever for all I care!", Romano snarled, crossing his arms huffily as if anyone was going to argue with him about it.

"Lo siento, but I can not either. I am devoted only to my Lovi.", Antonio said dramatically to answering squawks from the Italian in question.

"Well, I'm certainly not. I don't know where he has been.", Eduard stated, catching an amorous Frenchman by his face to plant him on the ground to be held there with his heel, "And you aren't either."

"But!", Francis started to protest.

"No. You are already engaged.", Eduard reminded him. The Estonian fell as he was tilted backward to find himself wearing a whole lot of Frenchman.

"So I finally have made you jealous and possessive of moi. Do not fear mon amour. My heart solely belongs to you, I swear it!", Francis purred throatily, his nimble fingers stroking at pale cheeks quickly taking on a shade of bright crimson.

"Humph. I just don't want to be stuck in a marital legal battle.", Eduard sniffed dismissively in neutral tones.

"Boo! So cold!", Francis pouted, kissing Eduard's cheeks to trail down to his long neck, licking at suddenly exposed collarbones. Eduard occupied his next few moments swatting Francis off.

"Well I can't either…..", Toris muttered, not finishing his reason to trail off awkwardly. The travelers all turned as one(the ones that could anyway-Eduard was still occupied) to look at Kiku who stare back at them wildly.

"P-please reconsider another. This one can not possibly be expected to.", Kiku stammered.

"You have someone special waiting for you back in Japan, yes? Perhaps a sweet delicate flower of loveliness?", Francis asked with a sly grin as he picked himself off of the ground.

"…..um….. No.", Kiku admitted.

"Are you engaged or already married?", Eduard ventured.

"No."

"Have you ever kissed anyone before amigo?", Antonio puzzled.

"What!? That is very personal!", Kiku said awkwardly.

"Quit being a chicken shit and just kiss the guy so we can get this over with damn it!", Romano snapped impatiently, tapping his foot at fast tempo, "It's not like you have fuck the guy!"

Kiku blanched at the very thought of it, going so pale that Toris thought he was going to faint for a moment. The Asian dabbed at his trickling nosebleed, glaring at the Italian.

"There is no need to be so vulgar.", Kiku glared at the petite Italian who shrugged.

"All I'm saying is that you're scared.", Romano yawned, already bored with the entire situation. The not dead bastard looked way too comfortable. It was making him tired.

"I am not scared. It is simply a matter of honor.", Kiku explained stiffly.

"Whatever. I don't care. Let the bastard sleep forever then.", Romano tossed over his shoulder, looking for a comfortable piece of marble of his own.

Romano's careless words hit Kiku deeply though. He found himself staring down at the prone Greek caught between this world and the next. He could save this poor being from his prison of flesh with just one kiss, one small selfless act on his part. Kiku fumed to himself over the matter though no one else could have guessed it from his passive expression. Eventually though his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I will do what you ask of me, though the price is steep.", Kiku sighed, moving forward to kneel beside the tranquil man. He brushed some stray curls from the man's darker cheeks finding them as soft as he had imagined. Kiku nibbled his bottom lip furiously, leaning over to study the Greek's lips which were full and elegantly shaped. Taking a final deep breath, Kiku pressed his cool lips to them, finding the orifice plush and pliant, his breath warm and sweet, smelling of mint and thyme. They parted in the most natural of motions, a tongue meeting his own gently, wet and hot. Kiku's eyes flew open at the contact to be met with sleep hazy eyes, a shade of olive green. Kiku jerked back suddenly enough to send himself falling off over the edge in his surprise. The Greek leaned up on his forearms to look quizzingly down at him.

"Are you ok?", the man asked in low gravelly tones that touched places deep within Kiku, making him shiver.

"Hai.", Kiku said quickly to cover up his embarrassment, his cheeks boiling over with scarlet. His first kiss! And with a foreigner!

"…..Hello. So…..are you alright?", the man asked again good naturedly.

"So sorry. Yes, I am fine.", Kiku mumbled, cursing the odd similarities between certain English words and his own native tongue.

"…..Are we going to do it?", the Greek yawned, scratching the back of his head idly.

"N-no!", Kiku gaped up at him horrified. This man was as bad as the rest, who were watching the pair's exchange with great interest, even Romano having found that marble was not that comfortable.

"…..ok…", the man shrugged, turning back over in his stony bed. Romano ran over to hit him upside his curly head.

"Don't go back to sleep, bastard!", Romano snapped to have the Greek blinked sleepily at him with a vague expression on his handsome face.

"…..Ow….", he said calmly, "…..Why not?"

"Because we just went through all the trouble of breaking your damn spell, bastard!", Romano snarled, glaring at the Greek, though he had had no part in it, "Quit wasting our time, damn it!"

"…..Spell?….What spell? I was just napping.", the man said drowsily, to be met with a mix of emotions ranging from total disinterest(Antonio had wandered off again after a tortoise) to utter horrified shock(Kiku looked frightfully pale again much to Toris's distress).

"Oh well, my mistake. You are a very deep sleeper, mon ami.", Francis grinned, his mischief managed for the day. Eduard rolled his eyes at him in disgust.

"Are you the oracle?", Toris asked quickly, trying to regain some normalcy to the situation. The Greek swayed woozily, attempting to stretch as he considered the question for a very long moment.

"…Yup….", he managed eventually.

"Why did it take you so long to answer that?!", Romano snapped. The Greek was really starting to bother him.

"Great. May we ask you a question then?", Toris pushed forward to be met with another nerve wracking long pause.

"…Nope….", the Greek shook his head.

"I'm going to kill this bastard!", Romano raged. Francis was actually useful for once, tossing the petite Italian to Antonio as one would meat to hungry dogs.

"Why not?", Toris asked patiently.

"…Gotta do it with someone first….",

"…"

"…"

"WHAT?" was the general reaction.

"…so noisy…", the Greek mumbled, sighing as he curled up on his bed again.

"Well this has been a total fucking waste of time!", Romano griped, trying to shove Antonio off of him.

"Fear not! I volunteer my services to get us as many answers as you want!", Francis practically gleamed, his true calling in life presenting itself to him finally at long last. His 'moment' was shot down with a dull look of complete disinterest from the Greek.

"…..not you…"

"What!? Why not!?", Francis yelled, falling back in shock. Eduard tried not to laugh.

"….Only with him….", the Greek said, pointing to Kiku who practically had a meltdown and bled out.

"Am I not beautiful?! Elegant!? Charming?!", Francis sobbed on Eduard's shoulder who patted at his back awkwardly, feeling quite wrong comforting him for various reasons.

"Um…..I don't think that is going to happen. He did already kiss you though. Doesn't that count for something?", Toris asked, rubbing his temples gently in comforting little circles.

The Greek seemed to consider it very carefully with great deliberation.

"…Sure….", he shrugged.

Kiku was suddenly put on the spot so he ended up saying the first thing that came to his mind, "What are all the cat's names?"

The Greek's face lit up warmly with a soft grin, his first real expression as he regarded the Asian. He picked up one of the cats to present him properly.

"…um…this is Sleepy…Sneezy…Corporal Cat…."

"You just made those up didn't you?", Kiku asked, raising a slim onyx eyebrow at him.

"…no….."

Kiku sighed warily, frowning at the strange man, "What is your name?"

"…"

"…"

"…Heracles Karpusi…."

"You have got to be fucking kidding me! It's your own name! Why did you have to think about it, damn it?! What took you so long bastard?! Chigi!", Romano roared, ready to pounce on the Greek now that he had rid himself of the Spaniard by throwing something shiny in the opposite direction.

"Ve~ Romano?"

The group turned as a whole to see some very familiar faces, Matthew waving shyly at Francis who practically threw himself at the Canadian. He was smacked down by Alfred and Eduard.

"Fratello!"

"FRATELLO?", Feliciano's group wondered aloud at Romano's state of dress as they continued to greet fellow comrades and were introduced to new ones.

"Si! This is my fratello, Lovino Romano Vargas!", Feliciano introduced cheerfully.

"That's a mouthful.", Ludwig said, studying Feliciano's long lost twin carefully. He was surprised to actually meet him in the flesh, long given him up for dead.

"No, It's Italian.", Feliciano corrected, confused.

"Chigi. Shut the hell up idiot. I'm not surprised to see you are still embarrassing as ever. Who the hell are you with? They look almost as stupid as you.", Romano growled, glaring up at the tall German who gave him a hard look back.

"Ve~ Oh, this is Ludwig! He is very brave and kind and so strong!", Feliciano smiled sweetly up at the tall man, who turned red under the flood of compliments as the Italian pressed close to him. Romano's glare grew darker and more intense.

"I hate him already!", Romano snapped as Feliciano winced in response.

"Ve~, Fratello…."

"What the hell is your problem with West, you little butt munch?", Gilbert asked, shoving the petite Italian over easily as he walked past, "Hey Toni, you fucking freeloader! Long time, no see! What the hell are you doing in this hellhole of a country?"

"Gilbo, mi amigo! Come meet my Lovi! Lovi? What are you doing down there? Is it time for your siesta?", Antonio asked the enraged Italian as he tried to get up again. It was very hard to do with a Prussian's boot on the small of his back.

"Oh hell no! I'm up to my eyeballs in fucking Italian flakes! I don't need yours!", Gilbert laughed, ignoring the struggling man underfoot.

"Who are you calling a flake, bastard!?", Romano roared, flailing about. Gilbert sneezed in boredom, wandering off to study the 'famed' oracle who stared back him sleepily. Kiku moved in front of him, his hand going to his katana's hilt. Gilbert raised a pale eyebrow at the menacing gesture, the Asian's intent very clear.

"Chill out short stuff. I am not looking to mess with your boyfriend.", Gilbert smirked, watching Kiku go quite red with the use of that particular word.

"B-boyfriend!", Kiku sputtered, slightly horrified. He had just felt oddly protective for some reason. Heracles didn't seem particularly aware of his surroundings, more concerned about his cats than with these new strangers crowding around him, all them looking very strange and foreign.

Feliciano was particularly enamored with the cats, rolling on the ground with one, his brother instantly forgotten. Romano amused himself by throwing pebbles at him.

"I hate you.", Romano glared down at him.

"Ve~ Cute kitty!", Feliciano sang, rolling over to shove a cat into Romano's face.

"Get off of the ground bastard and get that thing out of my face!", Romano sighed, picking his brother off of the ground and pausing to pat the kitty's head if only placate his brother.

Francis, who would usually be all over a pair of gorgeous Italian twins like stink on shit, was totally distracted by a very odd sight.

Hanging back, a cat sat upon a horse watching the others. This in itself wasn't unusual. There were plenty of cat loitering here. This feline though was sitting properly in the saddle, wearing clothes. Dressed in a flowing white shirt, breeches with high boots, and a long emerald green cloak, the white cat with the one orange ear and tail, glared at them all with familiar emerald eyes, his crooked little ears enforcing the impression of heavy eyebrows.

"Angleterre?", Francis said in wonderment. The cat's scowl seemed to deepen if that were even possible.

"Belt up and piss off, frog! I'll hear none of it from you.", Arthur snapped, glaring emerald murder at the Frenchman who practically danced over to him in his very obvious amusement, which was further emphasized when he fell over laughing.

"What happened to you?", Francis somehow managed to gasp out, picking himself up to lean heavily up against the cat's horse.

"You are a complete and utter arse.", Arthur seethed through fanged teeth.

"Oh whose a pretty little cat!", Francis teased, poking at the Scottish Fold's belly, the cat giving him an indignant look.

"Ummmm….Frenchie…..", Alfred winced, moving off to the side just to be safe.

"Whose a liddle widdle kitty cat with his widdle ears and widdle pink nose.", Francis baby talked, pressing his fingertip to the various parts of described anatomy. Arthur's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh Maple, Francis that is really not a good idea.", Matthew said warningly as he ducked down behind some cover.

"Cutesy woot….AWWWWW! Get 'em off! Get 'em off! Get 'em off! Get 'em off! Get 'em off!", Francis screamed, Arthur attached to the Frenchman's face claws first.

"Tried to warn you dude.", Alfred sighed, holding up his own bandaged hands. It wasn't his fault that Arthur was so cute and fuzzy. Or that he had been the one to point out that Arthur was technically naked. After Arthur had felt Alfred had been properly and bloodily reprimanded, the Englishm…er…cat had had Feliciano make him up some appropriate clothing.

"Like OMFG. He's such a drama queen, like seriously!", Feliks complained, waddling up to the group after refreshing his glitter so that he sparkled like a drag queen's dress.

"Feliks!", Toris gasped in surprise, rushing over to the swan.

"Tortor! Where have you been, boo!? Like totally not cool bailing on me like that!", Feliks complained, turning his beak up in the air.

"I was kidnapped!", Toris argued, throwing his hands up in the air, "It's not like I had a choice!"

"Lame. Totally lame. I have been looking for you everywhere! You know what stress does to me!", Feliks fluttered his wings dramatically. Toris could not help but smile at his oldest friend's antics.

"I'm glad to see you haven't changed much.", Toris said softly, stroking stray feathers back into place. Green eyes were rolled widely up at him by the rather put out swan.

"Your defi of the sitch kinda sucks btw. I'm a swan. I mean I am like totally pulling off this look but seriously, a major hassle. You would think feather would be that easy to look this good. Like update, can we say total nightmare much?!", Feliks lamented his lot in life of having to look fabulous.

"Do you know how to change back?", Toris asked, to have the swan flop bodily into his lap, getting mass amounts of glitter stuck on the Lithuanian's armor and clothing.

"Duh, like no. That is why we are here to see like this swami, voodoo, or whatever something person.", Feliks sighed theatrically.

"….Oracle….", Heracles supplied, surprising helpful to everyone's surprise.

"Yeah, totally! I love that line of perfume! Someone is fashion forward.", Feliks looking up at the Greek to make a face at his clothing, "Then again maybe not. Ewwwwww, like a toga. So last millennia. Here's a tip boo, ditch the sheet and go sheik! "

"He might not be able to help.", Toris grimaced, doubting that Kiku would be able to get over the blood loss soon enough.

"…..He has to do it with the talking cat…..", Heracles said, surprising everyone in many different ways. It was even enough to make Arthur release his death grip on Francis's face.

"WHAT!", the group exclaimed, to stare back at the Greek who shrugged noncommittally at them.

"You can not be serious.", Kiku reprimanded him lightly, " Please be more specific."

Heracles nodded seriously, bringing up his hands to scrunch them up into pretend hand puppets, pressing their face together to make loud kissing sounds.

"And they say the theater is dead.", Arthur commented dryly, watching the Greek with a look of distain as he continued to play out his hand puppet fantasy of smooches, "He's obviously off of his rocker. Couldn't predict his way out of a bloody paper bag."

"No, no…It makes sense.", Matthew said slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. Arthur looked aghast, his furry jaw dropping.

"In what possible way!?", Arthur growled, spitting in rage.

"Feliks's spell was a spiteful curse and yours was mishap. A regular kiss doesn't work but a kiss of conflicting enchantments might just cancel each other out.", Matthew explained, Ludwig nodding his own approval of the idea.

"That is a whole lot of weird.", Alfred sighed, not liking the idea of his Iggy kissing the swan. Feliks was good in his book but there were some lines your bros just didn't cross.

"That is a whole lot of ugly you mean.", Gilbert snickered.

"Hater!" and "Sod off!" were directed at the Prussian in the same tone by the two animals.

"C'mon Artie! Do it for us and all the sweet, sweet loving we could be having!", Alfred said excitedly, having been obviously denied sexing for basic moral reasons.

"Bollocks to you. I would rather stay a cat, thank you very much.", Arthur said snippily.

"If not for me then, do it for the tea Artie! A steaming cuppa, loaded with milk and two sugars, all creamy and sweet.", Alfred said desperately, going for his secret weapon, his Earl Grey ace in the hole.

"Tea…..", Arthur practically drooled in longing, "Too right then lads! For the tea! Come here you gorgeous goose! Pucker up sweetheart!"

"Oh shit! That actually worked!", Alfred laughed as they watched the cat basically assault the swan, pressing a rather awkward kiss on the water fowl's beak.

****POOF****

A cloud of bright hot pink smoke engulfed everyone there, dusting them all with mint green glowing sparkles. A slim figure pirouetted out of the cloud, dressed in a Barbie pink tutu, his fitted corset twinkling with jewels sewn into the material. The man(?) had shoulder length straight blonde hair and large bright green eyes. He tippy toed over to Toris on arched foot to lean gracefully against him, pressing a kiss to the Lithuanian's lips.

"Tough break dude. You're in drag.", Alfred commented, taking in the ballerina getup. Toris smiled sweetly at his lost prince, dancing with him on light feet.

"No. That is just what he normally wears.", Toris murmured affectionately, dipping Feliks who giggled.

"You tell him, boo.", Feliks sniggered, sticking his tongue at the American.

"Better than being naked I guess.", Alfred shrugged, waving away the rest of the funky magic mist in search of Arthur. He stopped abruptly to stare wide eyed at his Englishman, " Then again….."

Arthur looked down, thrilled to see that he was back to normal…

….and completely naked.

"Hon, hon, hon…"


	12. Chapter 12

***snarky announcer is back***

Ok people, the check cleared so I'm back….

(whispers to someone offstage-What the hell am I doing again?)

(…)

(…)

(You're kidding right?)

(Whispered argument with lots of waving of contracts and mentions of termination)

Whatever…*cough*….Once upon a time there was a woman who really wanted to have a baby but alas. had none to call her own. Not really a hard concept considering there is show called 'I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant' but maybe she was a prude or preferred fish tacos to hot dogs. We'll never know….

(Angry whispering from off stage and pointing to the script)

(Practicably audible roll of eyes from the announcer in response)

Anyway, so this chick goes to a fairy…..ok, not my first knee jerk reaction to do but whatever. She goes to a fairy…..to buy a barleycorn? Am I reading that right?

…

…

What?…Timeout. You go to all the effort to find and talk to a fairy and they just can't give you a baby? You have to buy a make your own kit? Phsst…Rip off.

So Ms. Why-didn't-you-just-adopt?-it-would-seem-less-of-a-hassle pays the fairy 12 shilling….

Ok, anime fans, that is old English currency…oh American fans….hmmmm, that's made up money.

FYI, 12 shillings comes out to about a buck so pretty cheap ass fairy.

The woman planted the barleycorn to water it with…

Look, I'm not reading the rest of this shit. Long story short, barleycorn turns into a tiny freak baby no bigger than a pea, which is ridiculous if you actually stop to think about it. That kid would have been so squashed or lost. I mean, have you ever actually looked after a pea? No, no you haven't. Don't lie to me. No one has cause it's ridiculous.

(Angry whispering involving several rude hand gestures)

In light of my future paycheck or potential lack there of, the pea sized baby managed somehow not being squished like a bug into baby goo to grow up into a beautiful girl with a lovely voice. Her only real problem in life was that she grew no larger than her mother's thumb, which is a pretty damn big problem.

…

…

You know what I'm thinking…

That's right, two words. Full refund.

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Thumbelina lived with her mother in the countryside of a far away kingdom known as Liechtenstein, just the two of them in a pretty little cottage out in the wood. It was a simple life really. Thumbelina kept her mother company while trying to stay helpfully out of her way. She entertained them both with the melodic eloquence of her stunning voice, one that seemed far too big for her miniscule person. It was a source of joy for them both but is also what got the tiny girl into all sorts of trouble as well.

Her mother would carry Thumbelina in her apron's pocket so that the tiny girl could look out onto the wide world such as it was from her viewpoint and warble her song sweetly from her perch.

It was heard by a fat toad who fell in love with it instantly upon hearing its first notes. He followed the pair back to their home and waited until nightfall to carry out his plan. The toad stole Thumbelina from her tiny bed while she was sleeping and carried her off into the night, far away from everything she had ever known.

Though Thumbelina begged the toad to release her and let her return to her mother, the amphibian refused, proposing marriage instead. Of course, Thumbelina declined but the toad was kinda clueless and quite an ass about the entire situation. They argued bitterly about it, the toad beginning to threaten her into compliance. He was much bigger that her, something that he used to his advantage. That bright morning was no exception for the pair, the toad proposing marriage and the tiny girl steadfastly declining. Toad expressed how displeased he was by this as Thumbelina cowered before him, expecting to be struck. The toad had done it before when she had spoken out of turn. The expected blow never came though.

Thumbelina looked up to see what was left of the evil toad dangling out of a white bear's mouth…but not for very long. With the snap of jaws and clicking of sharp teeth, the toad was all gobbled up.

"Ewwwwww, guv. I don't think ya supposed to be eatin' those.", a thing…..animal(?) said. Thumbelina wasn't sure what it actually was. It looked like a confused mixture of bird and bunny in pastel shades of green. It also had a rather abrasive accent that grated on her ears. Thumbelina squeaked in surprise as the bear and the thing's attention focused on her. Thumbelina turned to run away from the odd pair but tripped over her feet instead, face planting wetly into the mud. She sat up, somewhat embarrassed as she wondered if being eaten alive was going to hurt. Instead of being met with teeth though, a wet nose was pressed to her side as the green bunny thing delicately sniffed her over.

"Oi! There's a bird 'ere!", the strange creature chuckled, looking way too pleased with itself. It didn't sound hungry though so Thumbelina was fine with a little nose touching.

"Nein. It's only a midget.", a fluffy yellow bird grumbled in sullen cheeps as it alighted on the bear's head. It hopped down a moment later with a flutter of wings in inspect the muddy girl. Thumbelina reflected that she could have ridden the lemon colored bird. The chick looked kinda grumpy though, so she refrained herself from asking.

"Maple, you're a tiny one, eh. What are you doing here in the middle of this fucken muck hole?", the bear asked, sitting back on its haunches. He too pressed his much larger coal black nose(and rather wet Thumbelina found out) up to her, snuffling about curiously.

"I am…..was suppose to marry Mr. Toad….The one you just ate.", Thumbelina giggled, pushing the invasive nose of tickling away from her. The bear jerked it head back in surprise at that, looking upset.

"See what ya gone and did now, guv?! You've ate up the lass's sweetheart, green legs and all like he was clotted cream and jam. 'Ope your happy!", the bunny lamented, glaring at the bear who had the decency to look very embarrassed. Thumbelina noticed that the yellow bird must of found the entire thing very funny, if his odd continuous cheeps of 'Kesesese' were any indication of laughter. Any further argument was waved off though by former bride.

"That's alright. I didn't want to marry him. He was icky and was going to make me anyway so thank you very much for eating him.", Thumbelina smiled.

"So vhat now faurelin?", the chick asked curiously, his accent noticeably different from his two companions. Thumbelina shook her head in response, shrugging.

"Well…..I don't know.", Thumbelina said hesitantly. She was a mess and her dress was covered thickly with stinking mud. Living with Mr. Toad had not been the cleanest existence for her. All of her clothing, which consisted of the nightgown she had been stolen in, was in total ruin now.

"Don't you have a home to go to, lil bit?", the bear asked curiously. Thumbelina sighed, looking around at her soggy abode. She certainly didn't want to stay here but didn't know where home was either. Thumbelina could only deal with one problem at a time though, so she chose the easiest of them all.

"Would you be so kind as to take me up river a bit where it is a little dryer? I would be very grateful.", she asked hopefully.

"Cor, here we are stretchin' our jaws with you covered in muck!", the bunny said in dismay, setting himself down beside her, "Climb on lovey. We'll do ya right, we will, we will, we will." Thumbelina climbed on, marveling at the softness of the bunny's fur. Said bunny shot a smug look at the bear who answered back with an eye roll. The animals walked, well the white bear walked while the all the others rode him ,much to his dismay and near constant grumbling, along the river in search of a dryer patch of land beside it.

"You didn't answer the question, toots. We can drop you off you know, by paw or by wing.", the bear said kindly, despite his misgivings of being used as a pack mule.

"I do have a home…I just don't know where it is.", Thumbelina sighed. Now that she had a chance to see her surroundings, she had no clue where she was or how far Mr. Toad had taken her. It had been dark when she had been kidnapped and she had been very scared. It was all a horrible blur to her. The bear piped up, interrupting her troubled thoughts.

"Problem solved. You can just come with us and if you find your home, good. If you don't, we'll just find you a new one.", the bear stated firmly, "You can't stay here. Something will eat you.",

"That is very kind of you but how will you do that?", Thumbelina asked, cuddling with the bunny's soft fur, odd color that it was. It was very warm against her chilled skin and soft as down feathers.

"Ve travel with our masters…..", The chick began, the bear snorting at that title.

"More like idiots.", the bear corrected, "We go all over so we'll find you something eventually. Hey, what's your name by the way?". The bear came to a halt by a higher and much dryer part of the waterfront. The slim girl slid down soft sides to land neatly.

"Thumbelina.", the tiny girl said, curtsying. The animals stared down at her with a mixture of odd expressions.

"That's a horrible name.", the bear said flatly. The bird snickered, making the strange 'Kesese" noise again. Thumbelina felt her cheeks grow a little hot under the scrutiny.

"That's a matter o' opinion, guv. Shame on ya both. I'm sure the little bit had grown quite fond o' it by now.", the bunny reprimanded, feeling sorry for the tiny girl though he thought it was a terrible name as well.

"Nein. It's a bad name.", the chick cackled, flapping its wings in amusement. Thumbelina shrugged, disrobing to step into the cool clear waters to start rubbing her skin with finer grains of sand. She splashed about, cleaning engrained grime off of her pale form, reflecting on her title. In truth, it really was unoriginal. Her mother had chosen it for far too obvious reasons.

"That's alright. I've never really liked it myself. What should it be then?", Thumbelina asked, feeling happy to be so clean again as she waded out. She was not looking forward to wearing her filthy clothes once more though.

"Flying Mint Bunny at your service, me lady.", the bunny bowed in a grand manner of sweeping wings and on bended paw, "And I hope you are not considerin' wearing those rags. They are well past their date, they are, they are, they are." Mint scrunched up his nose at the former articles of clothing.

"It is lovely to meet you.", Thumbelina told him, "Unfortunately, I have nothing else to wear.".

"Wait a tic.", Mint said quickly running off to soon return with a spray of pink flowers in his mouth.

"Oh this ought to be good.", the bear groaned, backing away from the magical bunny. The yellow chick followed suit, putting some good distance between them. Thumbelina started to feel a little nervous from all this activity, seeking refuge behind the bear.

"Bollocks to ya both, ya sods!", Mint snapped, as he did a odd little dance around the flowers. They went 'poof' in a puff of smoke to be replaced by a dress in their quake. Leaving her impromptu shield, Thumbelina picked it up to find it was a lovely long sleeved gown with delicate white lace at its cuffs and collar. She put it on quickly to find it was a perfect it for her.

"Oh thank you Mint!", she cooed, the bunny looking very pleased with itself. He preened under the shower of her affection. The bear feigned dry heaving, before getting back to their original subject.

"As you can already see, we can't really help you out there. His name is a fucken description and my name is cursed.", the bear admitted grumpily, "It's Kumajirou if you were wondering." He should have never tried to eat that damn fairy. Kumajirou now had a standing rule now to never try and eat potentially magical creatures ever again.

"Cursed?", Thumbelina asked surprised. The bear didn't see cursed, though his name was alluding her for some reason. She was sure he had just given it to her.

"Long story. Move on.", Kumajirou nodded his head toward the chick.

"Speak for yourselves. My name is awesome.", the bird sniffed haughtily.

"Yeah, until you meet the hoser who gave it to you.", Kumajirou yawned.

"Jealous is unbecoming on you, bären.", the chick said, "My title is Gilbird."

"See not much better there.", Kumajirou said dryly. "The guy who named him is called Gilbert.", he added for Thumbelina's benefit, "Though he kinda dodged a bullet on that one. It could have been Fritz."

"Fritz is a fine name and a noble title!", Gilbird screeched, hopping around angrily.

"Yeah sure it is.", Kumajirou snorted, turning his attention back to the small woman, "What do you want to be called then?" Thumbelina thought for a moment though she already knew the answer.

"Well…..I have always liked the name Lili.", she said hesitantly. The animals nodded back after a moment.

"Then it is very nice to meet you Lili."

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Meanwhile elsewhere…  
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Arthur stood on top of a high hill that overlooked a deep valley that nestled a picturesque town worthy of postcards deep within its bosom. It was not what the Englishman was stared at though. He was looking at the towering giant who was currently eating a herd of cows as if they were chips. He wasn't sure what bothered him more, the repulsive sight of cow snacks or the Prussian's grating laughter in the back. In fact everyone's reaction to this was off in Arthur's opinion. The twins were currently playing rock, papers, scissors for some reason with Alfred for the win. Ludwig looked positively giddy about something with Gilbert mirroring his feeling tenfold. Feliciano…well, the Italian was off chasing butterflies with his brother yelling at him which was quite normal actually but at least they were staying out of the way. They were being kept an eye on by Antonio, though no one was feeling too good about that, especially Ludwig. He didn't like how the Spaniard was staring at his Italian. To Arthur's chagrin, Francis and Eduard looked just as confused as he did. Arthur hated sharing anything with the Frenchman even confusion. The giant was eating his way toward the town and the core members of this group were simply looking giddy about it.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?", Arthur snapped finally, his curiosity finally getting the better of him, "And why are you stripping?!" Alfred finished undressing, tossing his shirt to the side along with the rest of his weapons. He grinned as he took off his boots as well, leaving the American in only his pants.

"Don't need them for this.", Alfred answered simply as he started to wrap his hands in thin strips of studded leather, his twin wrapping the arches of his foot and ankles for him.

"And pray tell, what is 'this'?", Arthur asked, not liking the feeling he was getting from all this weird preparation.

"'This' is what we have been waiting for.", Gilbert snickered his ruby eyes never leaving the giant. Arthur's quick reasoning put two and two together.

"You really don't mean to go out there and fight that goliath!?", Arthur sputtered.

"Yup!", Alfred said too happily for the Englishman's liking, " Matthew and I played for it and I won."

"You're barking mad. You all are.", Arthur stared back at him, his eyes wide with worry. He ignored the strange looks he was getting from the core members of the group.

"Az much az I hate to agree with Angleterre on anything….", Francis said slowly, "…he doez make a valid point. How do you ever plan to defeat that? It iz almost 400 meterz tall."

"That ain't too bad.", Alfred grinned, "I thought it was a hell of a lot taller than that personally.".

"Git that's over 1500 feet….", Arthur translated, "And ain't is not a word."

"Is too.", Alfred blew a raspberry in eloquent reply. He was starting to get antsy, his excitement gnawing on him from the inside out.

"You can not go out and fight that thing!", Arthur ignored the wet gesture as he tried to reason with the American who seemed ready for whatever he was planning on doing.

"Why not?", Alfred asked confused. Arthur stared back at him like he had just beamed down from the moon.

"Because you daft fool, you'll get killed!", Arthur growled, spelling it out. To his mutual shock and chagrin, Alfred started to laugh.

"You are just too precious.", Alfred drawled. With that, he took a bounding leap, racing forward down the hill at top break neck speeds before the Englishman could say another word. Arthur started to go after him to find himself being held back by Gilbert.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? You wanna die?", Gilbert snapped, annoyed that the Englishman was fighting him tooth and nail to be let go.

"Do you?! Let me go, you twat! I've got to stop that blasted idiot!", Arthur yelled, squirming out of the Prussian's grip finally. He was stopped again though, this time by Matthew.

"Arthur, it is really alright.", Matthew told him kindly.

"How can you say that!? You just…..Wait, what am I missing?", Arthur asked finally, his mind calming down enough to reason out the odd situation. The twins didn't take their own safely or anyone else's lightly.

"Just the obvious as per usual.", Gilbert snickered. Arthur glared, getting ready to swing again on the Prussian when a firm German hand turned him around. Ludwig pointed to the moving dot that was Alfred racing across the open space toward the giant. Arthur gasped as he realized the American wasn't even really running anymore, his feet barely touching the ground as he used his absurd superstrength to propel himself greatly forward with each step. It almost looked like he was flying.

"We don't know how we got it, but Al and I…..", Matthew told Arthur, his light violet eyes never leaving his twin's form, "…we're really strong."

"I already know that.", Arthur frowned. He had seen plenty of examples of this phenomenon, Alfred being a natural showoff.

"No, you really don't.", Matthew shook his head, "I mean really strong."

There was a crack of thunder that made everyone jump except for the Canadian who had been expecting it. Arthur blinked up at the sky, positive that it was still clear. Another clap of harsh sound made Arthur look over that the giant, who was clutching his head as if in pain. A dot that could have been a flea on him bounced up from somewhere on the leviathan's chest to connect with it's chin sending the giant reeling back. Arthur felt his jaw go slack as he realized the flea was actually Alfred smacking seven shades of shit out of the giant with his bare fists.

"B-but….", Arthur stammered.

"Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have this kind of power?", Matthew said in a offhand tone to no one in particular, "It's like living in a world made of wet cardboard. We have to so careful all of the time. Alfred thinks it's a blessing. I personally think it was meant as a curse." Mostly in awed silence, the group watched as the giant tried to fight back, but it was a losing battle trying to catch something so tiny and agile.

"DON'T YOU DARE KILL HIM AL!", Matthew bellowed across the valley, practically flooring everyone present by the sheer volume coming out of the normally quiet Canadian.

"Maple! I'm going down there.", Matthew threw over his shoulder, racing forward down the hill to join his twin.

"I thought that was the objective though. To kill monsters.", Arthur said dryly.

"Do you want to bury a 365,000 ton corpse? Cause I can think of better ways of spending my time.", Gilbert snorted, his scarlet eyes glued to the diminishing form of his lover, "Though technically, you could if you were out at sea or close enough to a coast. Hmmmmm…"

"Nein. The political ramifications would be too immense.", Ludwig shook his head. A bushy eyebrow was raised at the German in question so he continued, "More than likely some arschloch planted an illegal magic bean making a beanstalk bridge to the sky kingdom of the giants. The being out there is probably some dull witted teenager who was too curious for his own good."

"So what do we do when the twins are done with him then if we aren't going to kill him?", Arthur asked.

"Once he is convinced i.e. smacked around a bit, we will escort him back to the beanstalk in which he will pay us a finder's fee. We will then cut the beanstalk down and then charge the town an exterminator's and removal fee.", Ludwig finished.

"And they will pay that?", Arthur said sardonically.

"Ja. The threat of another giant coming down is a very good incentive and they can live off of the beanstalk for a while.", Ludwig shrugged. He didn't add that most people didn't argue with a group that had a man who's left hook was strong enough to knock out a giant.

"And he's down.", Gilbert informed them though it was unnecessary as the ground shook signaling that the giant was well off of its feet, "That is going to leave one hell of a butt print."

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Arthur was very surprised to find that the giant was actually quite polite and apologetic about the entire ordeal. Having a black eye and busted lip can bring out the best in beings sometimes though. The goliath was escorted back to his beanstalk by the group, the towering sprout touching cloud cover being easy enough to find. After a long lecture from Ludwig, the giant was allowed to leave but not before he gave them a single gold coin.

When Arthur had heard about the fee they were charging the giant, he had not been impressed. He now understood Beilschmidt brother's excitement over the find of the giant. Arthur had not been thinking of things in terms of volume. It was just one gold coin alright but it was also the size of a small house. Arthur could only stared at the sheer amount of gold before him. He was former royalty so he had seen wealth before but this was intense.

The twins unpacked a rope saw to start working the bladed chain through the beanstalk as Ludwig supervised so that they didn't have it fall on the town inadvertently or themselves for the matter. While they did that, Arthur tried to come to terms with their payment. He ultimately came to one realization.

"How in the bloody hell are we going to carry this?", Arthur wondered aloud, barely registering the beanstalk falling until it made the ground tremble. The Englishman man found himself suddenly covered with a lot of sweaty American.

"You're not. Me and Mattie are.", Alfred laughed at the face Arthur was giving him. He poked at red puffed cheeks.

"Get off. You're all manky.", Arthur growled, attempting to shove Alfred off of him and failing as the American latched onto the Englishman.

"I'll pretend 'manky' mean awesome.", Alfred said, pressing kissing onto heated skin.

"Brilliant.", Arthur snapped, "That still doesn't answer how we are going to deal with the bulk of it or store it in a safe place."

"Duh Iggy. Even I know what ta do.", Alfred teased, finally letting his quarry go.

"Pray tell then. What?", Arthur asked, getting an odd feeling he was not going to like the answer.

"You put it in a bank.", Alfred picking up his end of the gold coin as Matthew took the other. The twins tested the weight a bit and played with angles to get familiar with the object. They were going to have to carry it quite a ways after all.

"You don't mean…..", Arthur groaned.

"Ja. We are going to Switzerland."

"Bollocks."

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Lili snuggled within the depths of thick white fur, Kumajirou keeping her very warm from the Swiss cold. The group had been traveling for weeks, navigating though treacherous passes, and soaring walkways. There had been several close calls and some minor setbacks but for the most part, their journey was over as the fortress carved into a mountain's side came into view.

"What is that place?", Lili asked. She didn't have to be as quiet as before since this journey had started. The one she knew as Matthew or Who in Kumajirou's case, was too busy holding his end of the gold coin to pay any attention to his bear or its hitchhiker. Lili had been worried at first when the four other men had joined the group. She had been worried she might be discovered but the overly perverted Frenchman seemed intent on occupying the quiet Estonian's time, who seemed just as intent on ignoring his advances. The Spaniard stayed busy making up new songs for the angry Italian who yelled at him constantly when he wasn't blushing or crying. Lili was sure that the other Italian, the one who smiled a lot, had noticed her but nothing had come of it. She wasn't so sure anymore about him though. Everyone else was far too busy to really pay attention inwardly, so Lili stuck with Mint, Kumajirou, and Gilbird as they all looked for a new home for her. Finding her mother now seemed a daunting and hopeless task the more they traveled. Lili had given the idea up a while back, wishing her mother the best in her heart. She was excited to be out and about finally in the world though and not stuck in her mother's apron pocket or married to a fat toad.

"It's a bank….kinda.", Kumajirou explained, "The idiot's will be able to convert their gold into bars and/or coins here in a secure location."

"No place more secure than here love.", Mint nodded in agreement.

"It's just…well…", Kumajirou wandered around mentally for a good descriptor for the owner of the bank castle.

Everyone took cover as the group was shot at by various types of artillery, the twins using the coin to shield the lot of them.

"The landlord is a complete and utter madarse." Mint finished for the polar bear.

"Arschloch.", Gilbird muttered.

"Yeah, that too.", Kumajirou sighed as Ludwig yelled passwords up at the castle. Gilbert and Arthur liberally added a few of their own.

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After a brief intense exchange, identities were confirmed and the group was admitted into the household. The company were shown to their rooms, everyone promptly settling in for the night. Being shot at will do that to you.

Lili, try as she might, could not get to sleep. She tossed and turned on Kumajirou's belly(her bed) until the polar bear started to grumble at her in his sleep. Sighing, Lili got up to slide nimbly down fluffy sides. It was nighttime, so she reasoned it wouldn't harm anything to take a quick walk.

Unfortunately, Lili didn't count on the castle's cat having the same feeling on the matter.

The tiny girl ran down all too similar hallways in a blind panic. She had barely managed to escape from the tomcat that had grabbed her in its claw. Luckily for her, the old tom hadn't been expected his meal to punch him in the nose and run off screaming.

Lili had gotten away but was now lost and bleeding from various cuts on her body. Her lungs burned from running and her legs felt too weak now to support her, trembling from the effort of just moving forward. She leaned heavily against a wall, looking for the room that held Kumajirou or Mint in it. Everything looked the same to her though, the lids of her eyes growing heavy. Sinking down, Lili collapsed against the wall, breathing shallowly.

"I just wanted to live a little longer…", She murmured to herself.

"Are you alright?"

Lili's green eyes fluttered weakly open to see a strange boy with a bluntly cut chin length bob of blonde hair and bright green eyes looking down at her. Lili promptly passed out without another word.

The tiny girl woke up to find out quite happily that not only was she still alive, she also appeared to be in a small bed just her size. Lili looked around in amazement to see that all the furniture around her was to scale with her size. Lili briefly considered she may have actually died and that she was in heaven until an entire side of the house opened up. Lili dove back under the covers in a vain attempt at hiding.

"I see that you are feeling better."

Lili peeked out from under the covers. The strange boy from before was there, but he made no move to harm her. Lili deemed it safe enough to at least poke her head out from under the blankets.

"Yes…yes I am. Thank you.", she said politely. The boy nodded solemnly. Lili got the distinct impression he was the serious type.

"Are you hungry?", the boy asked somewhat stiffly. He still hadn't looked back at her. Lili glanced down at herself to find she was neatly bandaged up and in a nightgown of all things. She giggled to herself, suddenly realizing what he was so embarrassed about.

"Only if you don't mind. I have already imposed you quite a bit.", Lili told him sweetly. She was amused to see the boy jump and actually look at her this time, his pale cheeks reddening.

"It's fine. I'll be right back.", the boy said far too quickly, before taking off. He soon returned with a cup of soup and a loaf of bread.

"I'm not that hungry.", Lili giggled. She could probably hollow out that loaf and live in it if need be. The boy blushed in answer, carefully taking out things from a drawer and setting them up on a nearby table just beyond where Lili could see. When he was done, the boy offered his open palm to her.

"I can take you over there.", he told her, doing the whole not looking thing again. Lili made him startle in surprise when she jumped into his hand.

"Be careful!", the boy chided, walking overly slow to the table. Lili debated about telling him about her time riding on a polar bear cub or soaring high above on a flying mint bunny. Neither activity was exactly safe. She was distracted though when the setup finally came into view. It was a table and chair complete with silverware and cup. A tiny bowl no bigger than an acorn's cap was placed on the table filled with a drop of soup while a equally tiny plate held a crumb of bread. It was all the right size for her.

Lili looked at in wonder, the awkward shuffling behind her reminding the tiny girl she was not alone. She spun around to face the boy, dropping down in neat curtsey.

"Thank you! I am so grateful!", Lili smiled up at the boy whose cheeks took on a bright shade of scarlet. He mumbled something in answer.

Though she was hungry, Lili looked around the room with interest. Her new vantage point gave her optimal visibility to see a room filled with dollhouses, save for one side which looked like a workshop of some kind to her.

"Did you make all this?", Lili ventured, gesturing about her. The boy nodded back shyly, his green eyes flicking between her and the floor.

"It is a hobby….", the boy said softly.

"What is your name?", Lili asked. The boy managed somehow to turn redder than she thought was humanly possible. Good manners refrained her from commenting on it, though she found it adorable.

"V-vash.", the boy stammered, licking his suddenly too dry lips. Lili's eyes widened in surprise. From the animal's description, she had been expecting a trigger-happy crotchety old man. This Vash barely looked eighteen and that was pushing it.

"It is very nice to meet you Vash. I am Lili. Thank you again for saving me.", Lili curtseyed once more, "I wish there was some way I could repay you."

"Don't worry about that. You should eat.", Vash told her sternly. Lili was surprised by his sudden change in demeanor, but not by too much. He was still madly blushing so it ruined the force of his tone. Lili nodded taking a seat at the table. Vash waited patiently until she was done to ask her more questions.

"Where did you come from?", Vash asked as he cleared the tableware. Lili debated with herself upon answering for a moment before sticking with the truth.

"I came in with those men on the polar bear's back.", she explained. Vash's brow furrowed for a moment as he scowled darkly.

"Those idiots. Why are they making you ride around on a polar bear? That's not safe.", Vash growled. He was going to do terrible thing to those dumb bastards.

"In all fairness, they didn't know.", Lili laughed.

"Ignorance is no excuse.", Vash grumped.

"No but it is a good reason." Lili countered. She didn't feel particularly loyal to the Beilschmidt's company but she did like the animals. They had kept her warm, safe, and fed.

"Why are you even bothering with them?", Vash snorted with obvious distain. Just because he did business with the company didn't mean he had to like or even respect them.

"I have no where else to go. I'm lost and have no home.", Lili shrugged, trying to make light of her situation. She quoted something she heard Alfred say, "Beggars can't be choosers." Vash's being flagged a bit under that glaring oversight of her predicament on his part.

"I really should be getting back. Kuma and Mint will be worried about me.", Lili said, starting to climb down the table leg with practiced ease despite her minor wounds. She yelped in surprise when she was picked up.

"Don't do that! I'll just take you to them.", Vash said quickly, "Be more careful!"

Lili muffled her giggles into her hand as she was carried. She found herself liking this strange boy who made doll furniture for a hobby more and more.

In turn, Vash's own mind was working overtime. It was like his greatest life's wish had suddenly come true. The tiny girl in the palm of his hand was beyond perfect in his opinion in very way possible. Her form was crafted slim and nymph like, her hair was long and the shade of the finest pale gold thread, and her eyes were like two perfect flecks of malachite set in porcelain.

The deciding factor came though when Lili opened her mouth to sing, a joyous sound pouring from it. It was as sweet as any songbird and melodic as any instrument. It wrapped itself around Vash's heart and tied it up in a tight bow.

Vash thought about never seeing or hearing Lili again.

He thought about the company he was returning her too.

He thought about the Prussian.

"Lili…Why don't you stay with me?", Vash found himself asking. Thoughts of Prussians will do that to a person. Lili stopped her song to stare up at the blushing Swiss.

"I think I would like that very much."

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And they lived happily ever after…..

...

...

...Kinda.  
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The End.

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MAKE

Alfred and Arthur

Thanks to Alfred's complete sense of misdirection, he and Arthur got lost in fairyland despite all of Alfred's protests that it didn't exist. After numerous misadventures, they were crowned the king and queen of Spades in a small card kingdom. Arthur still refuses to wear a dress though.

Matthew and Gilbert  
Matthew went back to his homelands of Canada inadvertently taking a Prussian with him. The two opened a bed and breakfast together in Quebec. Vital regions are claimed regularly.

Antonio and Romano  
Went back to Antonio's house. They grow lots of tomatoes there and are generally lazy bastards.

Roderich and Elizabeta  
Roderich was never executed for his various crimes against humanity. Before his execution, his last request was not for food but a piano. A Hungarian witch happened to be near by when he was playing his swan song and rescued him. The two were married later on. Roderich was not allowed to eat children anymore and is taking steps to battle his addiction to human flesh.

Ivan and Raivis  
Prince Ivan married Raivis despite his many protests. He is still creepy as all hell but really rich so Raivis can afford a lot of good therapy.

Francis and Eduard  
Francis and Eduard spent over a year looking for all the gold Francis had convinced very stupid people to bury for centuries as a talking frog. It turned out it was a lot more than he thought, making him a very, very, very rich man. Francis bought a lot of land in the French countryside and opened a vineyard. With his share, Eduard built a library on the premise as well as an alchemist workshop. To two combined their talents and made a rare vintage of champagne together.

Feliciano and Francis  
Feliciano became a famous dancer and singer that toured all over Europe. Ludwig became his manager. Feliciano stays busy with side projects as well. Ludwig helps manages those as well.

Rome and Germania  
Rome and Germania stayed in Italy deep in the forest. Rumors of a Big Bad Wolf still flourish.

Vash and Lili  
Lili and Vash maintained a very complicated relationship.

Denmark and Norway  
Denmark eventually kidnapped his prince and made him into a mermaid permanently, dubbing him Norway. The prince was less than pleased by this. He eventually forgave him though after a few centuries.

Berwald, Tino, and Peter  
Berwald and Tino hold down the fort in the wood of Sweden, ready to defend against the dark horde that threaten our world. They are together though, so they do not mind it. Peter grew up a bit and went back to England to restart the monarchy there. It's never been the same since.

Kiku and Heracules  
Kiku stayed with Heracules, deeming to too unsafe for the sleepy Greek to be left unguarded. He eventually took the oracle back to Japan with him. Heracles likes to sleep underneath the cherry blossoms best, surrounded by all of his cats.

Feliks and Toris  
Feliks and Toris were married later that year, uniting their kingdoms. There has never been a more fabulous wedding since or more pink.

Natalia and Katyusha  
Natalia did manage to lead a coo de ta until it became obvious she was just doing it so that she could marry her brother. Katyusha still visits her often in prison.


End file.
